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There is a special force that appears from time to time and steers imminent harm or danger away from me, like a proverbial guardian angel. I’ve never seen this force, and I cannot count on it coming, but it has happened too often for me to ignore it.  

Even though some people imagine that the force is visible—with embroidered wings and a soft touch—I can only see its presence in the effect it has. The force seems to reveal itself at the moment it acts, and then it instantly disappears. It’s certainly tempting to attribute it to magic or supernatural powers.  

Many cultures and religious traditions have their own “savior,” which can serve as defender, protector, guide. In German folklore, the mountain spirit Rübezahl keeps children lost in the woods safe from harm. Robin Hood, Zorro, and the Lone Ranger represent such a protective being, though not a supernatural one. Caped superheroes serve a similar function in popular culture, along with teenaged wizards. Today’s larger-than-life wizards—high profile, high tech, and comfortable with high finance—may appear as Bill and Melinda Gates or Oprah. Other “angels,” from Doctors without Borders to rescue dogs, wear any sort of attire. 

Biblical stories are replete with the notion of angels. It seems that in the distant past the Lord made appearances and discussed things with humans, much more frequently than is now the case. The child Moses was tested by Pharaoh’s magicians. His life was spared when he chose red hot coals over gold—guided, so the story goes, by a guardian angel. When Abraham was ordered by God to sacrifice his son Isaac, an angel intervened. And there are plenty of stories where a religious symbol protects the wearer from a bullet or some other assault, thereby contributing to a supernatural expectation.  

Many of us have had health scares that we’ve managed to survive (until, of course, we don’t). Some of us have had frightening experiences while flying. Most of us have also had at least one close call when driving. Once I was riding in a car when the driver dozed off just before a sharp curve in the Berkeley hills. I felt the wheels losing ground, and we faced the prospect of a freefall into a deep ravine. Suddenly the driver woke up, in time to sharply turn the wheel. We seemed to float over the canyon for a moment and then all the wheels hit the ground. To me it was clear that an extraordinary force—a guardian angel, if you will—prompted the driver to make the correction when it was critical.  

As a child growing up in the foothills of the Carpathian mountains during World War II, I was personally rescued on more than one occasion. Because of the resourcefulness of my mother, we arrived five minutes late for the transport that was to take us to the concentration camp. The German officer in charge of the train depot was apparently so indignant we were late that he forbade us to board the train. He ordered us to pay the Romanian bus driver for gasoline and to ride the same bus home. 

Near the end of the war, neighbors gathered in a cellar hideout, justifiably fearful. We sat there in total darkness silently clutching our belongings and each other. Heavy boots approached. The trap door to the basement opened. Two German soldiers in combat uniform, holding submachine guns and flashlights, came down the steps. They were very young with pale pink cheeks. I sensed a catastrophe only a trigger finger away. Even the babies seemed to know the danger and kept quiet. The soldiers could easily have shot us all, and it would have been just another nameless incident, but they pushed the trap door open and left. No one said a word until first light when, dazed, we all climbed out of the cellar.  

I have not forgotten those two young soldiers, and I will never know exactly what happened that night, why we survived.  

Some might say that a supernatural entity comes to the rescue. A more mundane explanation is the well-known fight-or-flight response. When something threatens or attacks, we call forth a strength, a certain agility that we didn’t know we possessed—and don’t, except in an emergency. Every muscle, every function of the body is mobilized and synchronized, and we’re capable of feats unimaginable without that added thrust. We can reach a little higher, run a little faster, shout a little louder than we had previously thought possible.  

It may be more satisfying to have been rescued by a special being with ornate wings than to be saved through a physiological process. But whether we are rescued as a result of prayer or meditation, by intense psychic concentration, purely by chance, or by mustering all our resources, it is reassuring to know that we possess a power that can be called forth to provide a protective shield, defy the odds, do the “impossible.”  

I myself have benefited from the actions of a “guardian angel” more than my share, and for that I am grateful. When any of us has a close call and then gets a reprieve, it compels at least a moment of thankfulness, an assessment of priorities, a peek into our “soul.”