Stefania thought her trip to Hungary would be easy. One beautiful spring morning, she boarded a bus, waved to her daughter and son-in-law, and set off on a journey that took her across the then-Yugoslav border into Hungary. The trip wasn’t long, and with cheerful anticipation, she gazed through the window at new landscapes she’d never seen before. She carefully noted where she got off the bus so she could find her way back later that day.
Although she didn’t know the Hungarian language, she hoped she would manage to communicate with the locals, as happened with various foreigners who visited her hometown in the summer. But trouble awaited her.
She navigated the town well, gradually ticking items off her shopping list. She regularly checked the time and was cautious about how she moved through the streets of the unfamiliar town.
Pleased with her purchases, she decided to head back to the bus station early. For the first time that day, she was a bit worried and quickened her pace. What would she do if she missed the bus? She didn’t know the language, didn’t know anyone and had no more money. When she reached the spot where the bus had dropped them off that morning, she didn’t see anyone else waiting. As the departure time approached, she grew concerned when none of the other passengers arrived.
She looked up and down the street to see if anyone was further away but wherever she looked, she didn’t see any of her fellow travellers or the bus. She tried asking locals, but since she didn’t speak Hungarian, no-one could help her.
The departure time was fast approaching, and she still hadn’t seen anyone. What was she to do? Her small worry had now grown into a significant concern. At that moment, an older woman approached her. She looked kind, modestly but neatly dressed, with a scarf on her head—just the way Stefania dressed. The woman walked straight toward her and gestured for her to follow.
Having no other option, Stefania followed the woman. They crossed one street, then another, turned a corner and went a bit further. And behold! They arrived at the place where the other passengers, who had come with her on this day trip, were waiting for the bus.
Relieved, Stefania felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Since the woman had been so kind, Stefania used gestures to ask her to watch her belongings while she went to the restroom. The woman agreed to stay with her bags.
Pleased everything had worked out, Stefania turned around to the kind woman to thank her. But the woman was gone.
She asked nearby people, “Where is the older woman who was here watching my things?”
“We didn’t see any woman here,” they replied.
Dissatisfied, she tried again.
“We came here together. She wore a scarf on her head and was about my height. I asked her to watch my things, and now she’s gone. I wanted to thank her.”
“Madam, we’ve been here for a while, and no-one else was here. We saw you, but we didn’t see any other woman.”
Surprised by their response and the situation, she realised there was only one thing left to do. She focused her thoughts heavenward. Thank you, God, for looking after me and for giving me this beautiful opportunity to see my guardian angel with my own eyes!
Now she had much more to share with her family than the items she had purchased that day—a life-changing experience with her angel that would inspire her for the rest of her life.
Known as Štefica Bratulic (1930-2020), Stefania was my mum. She shared this story many times. Her doctor also saw her angel, a story you can read at record.adventistchurch.com/2021/04/15/doctor-you-saw-my-angel.
Dr Danijela Schubert is an author who worked as a lecturer, theologian, church administrator and departmental leader.
