Paul, though not his real name, was a favorite student of mine. Always smiling and singing. He was a teen when he came into my work program for kids with special needs. Some teachers told me he’d never work out in our program because of too many behaviors. But I found him to be a delight. He worked first volunteering then I placed him in a job at McDonalds where he flourished. Then he worked in a grocery store. When we’d have the breakfast each year to honor our employers and places that let the kids learn job skills, Paul would sing his thank you. Each student had to get up and say thank you to their boss or supervisor.
One day Paul and I were alone driving to a job site. The radio was on and I always had country music on as there are no swear words. The kids grew to love the music. As we drove along Paul and I sang along with the song. He said to me, “Mrs. Sharpe, I like you. You’re nice to me! ” “I like you too Paul, I replied. “Thank you because you’re nice too.” That was years ago but the last I heard Paul was married and had two jobs
. Pretty great for the kid who might have not been in the work program. You see, with my students. I never gave up!
Over the years teaching children with special needs I found myself in awe of their wholesomeness. The first student that touched my heart was named Heather. Her middle name was Angel. I worked in a community center in a day long program for these children. Heather was a fun and lively nine year old with a heart of gold. My first student with Down’s Syndrome, she paved the way for me to grow to love them all. I was so new and knew very little about children with disabilities but had wanted to teach these children since high school where I volunteered with girls with special needs who came to our school to learn to swim. Teaching Heather was a joy and her parents were the nicest people who encouraged their children with hope and boundless love. It’s been years since I saw her or her parents. It is my hope that Heather is somewhere happy, healthy and enjoying life for she was a wonderful child. Her favorite thing to say to me was, “Jody, you nut” and “Jody cowboy.” Heather made such an impact in my life that in my novels The Angel’s Daughter 
In my years teaching students with special needs, I found myself embracing the minds and hearts of the children. Mat, a boy of sixteen, was a teenager when he entered my work program. He would say, “hi, bye, Mat, and girl” and would smile all the time. One spring day it was just Mat and me as we drove in the school van to a volunteer site where Mat would learn work skills. The day was lovely and thinking out loud I said, “What a beautiful spring day!” To my surprise Mat commented, “I chase the butterflies!” To say I was stunned was an understatement. Mat had been my student for two years and had never spoken more that one word. I replied, “Yes Mat, what else happens in spring?”
At book signings I always ask everyone who comes up to my table if they think they might have ever had an encounter with an angel. I find so many people have had some kind of angel connection and are eager to share their spiritual experience. One family came up to me at a book fair and told me of their little three year old’s sighting. One day the little girl said she saw an angel standing before them. They did not see the angel and were surprised when their little girl raised both arms to heaven and 
For twenty five years of teaching my students with special needs filled my heart. They were all unique, loving and gifted in their own way. Their senses of humor amazed me and they were loving and fun and loved school and all their teachers more than I ever hoped for. 
His name was Ken and I met him on a plane bound for New York. He was a burly young man and traveled the country for his job repairing high tech of some sort. Along with our seat mate a lovely lady named Billy, we talked the hours away about our lives. The three of us had the same beliefs about our world, how kindness and love were all that matterd. Ken was particularly concerned with prejudice of all kinds and our discussions revolved mainly on this topic. I told them both of my writing novels and how I would love for them to be characters in my next book. They both agreed and seemed elated. I asked, ” Ken if I make you an angel in my new book what profession would have been your dream if you could pick one?” Ken replied quickly, “I always wanted to be a football player.” “That’s what you’ll be then,” I told him. Billy, I informed them would be the little girl in my novel. I gave them my card and told them to email me and I would send them copies of my books. As we departed the plane in New York, we stood and hugged each other. I heard form Billy and I sent her my books. I never heard from Ken. Little does Ken know that whenever it is finished he is the man angel in my book. I’ve described him to my best recollection. The odd thing is that after meeting Ken I remember a woman who saw angels who I met at Payson Book Fair two years before. She said there was an angel named Ken beside me. I didn’t know anyone by that name then. I was amazed I’d forgotten the incident when meeting Ken. Writing both Billy and Ken is a blessing to me. I meet so many nice people on planes. I’ll let Billy know when my book is finished but Ken? I don’t know. Ken, wherever you are I say thank you for making such an impact on me for I’ve written the most endearing character ever in my Mystic Bay Books series. Maybe you really are an angel!
I met him at one of my book signings at The Payson Book Festival one July. I always ask those who come up to my table if they have ever encountered an angel. This was the first time I had asked anyone and I received a powerful story. The young man was in the service and was taking a swim in the ocean. There was an undercurrent and he started to drown. It was the end he thought but then a hand grabbed his hand and pulled him to the shore. On the beach he turned to thank the man for saving his life. There was no one there, no one nearby he told me. People rushed to him from other parts of the beach but no one had seen anyone help him. Since then the serviceman has thought the man saving him must have been an angel guiding him through the dangerous water to safety. This was the first of many angels stories I have been privileged to hear over the years… Believe in angels. 
When my husband passed away a few years ago a woman who has worked for me for almost twenty years now wrote me a note. Over the years she has become my dear friend. As I struggled, my world broken in pieces, her note gave me comfort. “When we are alone we don’t notice angelic hands o
I visited Houston in June many years ago. My dear friend Nancy asked me to go with her to visit her friend for a girls week. Nancy knew I was struggling, mourning the death of my precious daughter, Kate. My fear of flying had escalated and moving on was difficult. We went shopping in a lovely department store, nice and cool away from the heat. We met a kind older gentlemen in the men’s department. He appeared to be shopping as Nancy bought a tie for her husband. This man talked to us for a moment exchanging pleasantries. He was visiting Houston also he said. We thought nothing of our meeting until the next day when Nancy took me to the town of Kemah to go shopping again. She had never been to the town about 34 miles from Houston. We were in a tiny gift shop when we heard someone say,”Hello!” It was the gentleman again. We were surprised and talked to him a few moments. He said to me, “See you at the airport!” We laughed with him at the coincidence of meeting again, and turned away to look at the gifts. When we turned back to him a minute or so later the man was gone. We thought it was odd. Did he have time to leave the store? Nancy and I immediately left the store and looked up and down the street.He was nowhere. We sat in chairs outside a restaurant trying to figure out what the odds were we would see the man again especially so far away from Houston and in the same little store. All these years later we still talk about the man. Maybe he was an angel, we think, sent to comfort me and ease my fear of flying. Mr. Angel as I call him is one of the reasons I write novels about angels living as humans. He is the reason my fear of flying lessened. The experience helps me move forward loving my family, my friends with kindness and hope.