Touched By An Angel

There comes a time in one’s life when you meet someone for the first time and you never forget it.  You remember the circumstances, the setting, and your state of mind.  You form a special bond that changes both your lives forever and for the better. 

Many years ago, I was in desperate need and I had no choice but to reach out. My husband had lost his job and my youngest of four children had just turned one.  Of course, we had a mortgage, bills to pay but, also, mouths to feed.  It pained me to ask for help, because I'm not the kind of person that would reach beyond immediate family.  For a while, I would suck it up while “robbing Peter to pay Paul” to stay afloat.  Although a very proud person, I had to turn to my church, , and had to let go of my stubborn Sicilian/Irish pride.

It was the church where I was Baptized, received the sacraments of First Holy Communion, attended school, had my Confirmation, and my Wedding. (I can proudly add that is was officiated by Fr. John Martin as his first marriage ceremony when he became the new Pastor then).  Later, the traditions continued to be celebrated for all my kids.  You could say I have a history there, so I was somewhat comfortable enough to approach my church.

Even as I write about this now, it pains me to remember what we went through as a family, but it made us stronger and more appreciative.  Also, embarrassing to acknowledge, yet I still kept a smile on my face.  As we kept it together, we rebuilt our lives with the help of an Angel throughout the whole ordeal. 

She was first introduced to me as “Helen.” I felt awkward; I couldn't call her that.  She was about my mom’s age.  I was raised to respect my elders.  She always insisted I call her Helen, but I had a hard time with it because I had too much respect for her.  We formed a special bond through the phone calls, the meetings, and the pantry food pick-ups.  I didn't know her last name for a while and she didn't know my maiden name.  We chatted frequently about life, and it turned out she knew my parents, and that my brother, Alan, and my husband, Ed, and I had gone to school with some of her kids.  Her husband had even been the Principal at the high school.  She fascinated me, and I loved talking with her about family, and how involved she was with the church. How did she do it all!

Even after things came together for us as a family, “Helen” and I remained close in our own friendship that really no one knew about.  We would call each other (especially on our birthdays), exchange cards on holidays (and even gifts at times).  I remember the last time we spoke in August on my birthday.  She sounded great and she said she felt good and was in God’s hands.  She always seemed to have a loving, inner peace.  As always the conversation ended, with her saying, “God Bless,” her favorite saying.  I needed it, and I would say it back to her, knowing she needed it, too. 

To this day, I still have the Angel statue with its wide open wings on my dresser she gave me.  It holds a special meaning to me, now more than ever, as God has welcomed her into His kingdom this past Thanksgiving.  May she rest in peace and know she held a special place in my heart.  I am only one person, but I know she touched many. I will never forget my special Angel, Mrs. Helen Kupec, and the blessing of having her in my life at my time of need, and for the special relationship that was formed .

My heartfelt condolences go out to her loving family.

Read the Newsday guestbook listing here.