Good afternoon dear friends, I am introducing the angel miracle, "Over The Hill And Everywhere" Is long, but oh so beautiful! &, Uma   Bud and Jane Surber of Salida, Colorado, are a remarkable couple. They've raised seven children and taken in sixty foster children, and now they enjoy frequent visits from twenty-one grandchildren, all on their large ranch, which lies at the bottom of a hill known as Angel Mountain. The name is fitting, for angels have played a considerable role in keeping their large brood well and happy, Jane and Bud believe, and in bringing other blessings, too. The wooden cross overlooking their property is a constant reminder of that. The cross was constructed years ago when several of the Surber youngsters were members of a 4-H Club. For a project, they had to build something that the entire community would enjoy. Since Angel Mountain was directly behind them, the kids decided to make a cross that would be visible from the road as their neighbors drove by. Using a scaffold, Bud helped the kids form the cross out of two huge telephone poles. But it needed something more. "I know!" one of the boys said. "Let's put lights on it, so people can see it at night!" This was a bit more complicated. But since Bud was an electrician for Public Service Company of Colorado, he knew how to tap electric power from the house. He built a junction box, made an extension wire and plug, and connected the other end to several long fluorescent tubes, which the children mounted on both poles. The first night they turned it on, the family stared in awe. It was beautiful, glorious, like a huge heavenly star. Their neighbors, and travelers passing on Highway 285, would see it, too. What a wonderful way to announce Christmas! The Surbers lit the cross each night during that first holiday season, and continued through January. Everyone appreciated it. One morning, Jane walked down to the mailbox and found a note from a long-distance trucker. "I had been contemplating suicide for a while," he wrote, "and then, from a distance, I saw your cross. I followed the light all across the plains, and by the time I got here, I had changed my mind. Your cross gave me the hope I needed to go on." Jane and Bud were thrilled that the children's project had actually saved a life. But at the end of January, they received a rude awakening. The electric bill arrived, and due to the cross, "it had skyrocketed," Jane recalls. "We knew we couldn't afford to turn the cross on every night anymore, so we decided to save it for special occasions." And so they did. Whenever they lighted it, travelers who were lost or experiencing car trouble invariably turned in at their gates. "I guess they figured any family with a lighted cross on their property would be willing to help them out," Jane says. "We met a lot of nice people that way." Years passed. Some of the children married and moved to other areas. Bud was transferred, too. His mother still lived on the ranchit had been in his family for more than one hundred years-but he, Jane, and the remaining children left Salida. By this time, the cross had fallen into disrepair and hadn't been turned on for several years. Lightning had struck it more than once, and the little connectors between the fluorescent tubes had cracked and rusted, breaking the flow of power. Bud never considered dismantling the cross-he still remembered the care and love the children had put into it. But obviously, its importance had come to an end. In 1989, Bud retired, and he, Jane, their two youngest sons, and four foster daughters returned to the ranch. Shortly afterward, one of their sons-in-law died suddenly. "It was a tragic time, especially for our widowed daughter, Gail, and her children," Jane says. Gail and her children moved back to the ranch, where the family wrapped them in love and support. But Christmas was fast approaching. How would they get through it this year? December 24 dawned, and children, in-laws, and grandchildren began to arrive, presents in tow. Despite the laughter and camaraderie, everyone was uncomfortably aware of Gail's pain. If only they could do something special for her, something to make this Christmas a little more bearable! But what? Jane knew their feelings, and felt the same way. "Gail," she asked as the others milled around the kitchen, making breakfast, mixing cookie dough, and planning their day together. "Is there anything any of us can do for you?" Gail paused. "I wish ... " "Yes?" The kitchen suddenly became very quiet. "I wish we could light the cross tonight." Her siblings looked at each other, then at Bud. The cross. Everyone knew it had completely deteriorated. It had been years since they had even thought about it, much less checked to see if it could be restored. Worse, the weather was bitterly cold, with a terrible mountain wind that would make outdoor work even harsher than usual. But love, real love, never counts the cost.Immediately, everyone reached for jackets and scarves, united in a common cause. If a lighted cross would bring memories of an earlier, happier time to Gail, if it would heal her even for a moment, it was worth trying. "Our kids, in-law kids, and foster daughters labored outside all day," Jane recalls. Some climbed the high crossbar; others attempted, with frozen fingers, to coax rusted parts to function. Nothing worked. Jane couldn't see much from the kitchen, but as hours passed with no triumphant shouts, she began to worry. In late afternoon she noticed, with a sinking heart, that snow had begun to fall. Soon, darkness descended, and a son stomped in to get some flashlights. "Anything happening?" Jane asked him. He looked at her through iced eyelashes, his face raw from the wind. "It's impossible, Mom," he said, slamming the door behind him. Another hour passed. Finally, Jane threw on a coat and went outside. She could see flashlight beams still moving on the hill, but the cross remained dark. Bud was walking slowly toward the house, and she ran to meet him. "No chance?" she asked quietly. "None." He sighed and put a numb arm around her. "As soon as one wire's repaired, we find another broken one. There's no end to it. It would take a miracle to help us now." A miracle. Jane knew that a miracle was what Gail needed, and what her family was feverishly working to give her. Not just a lighted cross, but a sign that she would survive this terrible loss and that life would be good again someday. And weren't miracles what Christmas was all about? "Lord Jesus, send us a miracle," Jane prayed. "Show us your love in a special way tonight." They had reached the house and now, heartsick and frustrated, Bud moved away from Jane. He looked for a moment at the junction that linked the cross's useless wires to the power source. And then, with one booted foot, he kicked it. A huge cheer suddenly erupted from the hill. Jane turned first. "Bud, look!" The cross was shining bright. It was a good Christmas that year, despite the underlying grief. And Gail, perhaps, was the most hopeful of all. God had sent her a message through her family that she was surrounded with love and that he would never abandon her. Although she didn't yet know how she would manage, the answers would surely come. The family, too, was joyful. They had sacrificed their comfort for what seemed a desperate cause, and God had rewarded their efforts. The cross continued to glow each night, a beacon not only for the Surbers but also for everyone traveling along the highway. And it could burn forever, as far as Jane was concerned; a huge electric sUrcharge would be a small price to pay for the memory of that renewed hope in her daughter's eyes. But it wasn't until the January bill came that Jane realized the full extent of their Christmas gift. For, despite the constant use of extra power, there was no change at all in the bill. It was the same amount due as always. "How could this be?" she asked Bud. He didn't know. Nor had he been able to figure out just why the cross was turning on automatically each evening. For, despite his kick to the junction box that Christmas Eve, several of the connectors on the poles were still broken. And he had just discovered that the timer he had installed after Christmas had split in two because of the frost. There was no way that electricity could be reaching that cross. But if you're ever on Colorado's Highway 285 and you pass a cross glowing brightly on Angel Mountain, you might want to stop for just a moment or two. Surely there are miracles there, as in all places that God has touched. And you might even hear the echo of those long ago heavenly hosts singing the same marvelous message: "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests." (Luke 2:14) What a blessing. For then, for now, forever.