Hello dear cyber family, this is a very special angel miracle, about a lot of courage and determination. May many miracles be happening in your life now, sometimes we do not recognize them as miracles, but they are happening everywhere and to everyone never the less. Lots of love, light, hugs and blessings.

&, Uma

Guardians in the Jungle

Stories of wartime angel sightings abound. George Washington allegedly saw an angel at Valley Forge. An often-told World War One event involved the Angels of Mons and the White Cavalry, white-robed beings who rode among the British troops and stopped the advance of the German armies. After Israel's six-day war, a story circulated about a convoy of jeeps carrying Israeli soldiers being waved onto a side route by two men whom no one saw except those in the lead vehicle. When troops went back to examine the main road, they discovered it was heavily mined. Were angels active in Vietnam, too? Quang Nguyen is sure of it.

In 1947, when Quang was a teenager, his uncle offered to send Quang and his own son to Paris to study to become wireless operators. So Quang left his wealthy family in North Vietnam and joined his relatives in Saigon. While waiting to go to Paris, Quang attended a school run by the Seventh Day Adventists. He learned English, attended a Bible class, and eventually converted to this faith. When Quang's uncle heard about Quang's conversion, however, he was furious, and he threw his nephew out of his house. By now civil war had broken out in North Vietnam, so Quang could not return home. The Adventists took him in, let him sleep on a classroom floor, and gave him work to do. "This was quite a change for a boy raised in luxury," Quang says, "but I decided that if Jesus, the Son of God, hadn't minded doing manuallabor, why should I?" The church people were very good to Quang, and he saved enough money to go to Singapore, and later Bangkok, where he became a lab technician. Eventually he won a scholarship to the United States to study medicine.

But by that time, the Adventist church in Saigon had asked Quang to help them start a hospital there. "They had been so kind to me that I could not refuse," Quang explains. He worked with the doctors and learned a lot-but by the time he felt he could leave for the United States, the Vietnamese government wouldn't give him a visa. Instead, Quang became the hospital's administrator. During these years, Vietnam's long-fought civil war had inflicted great damage on the country. Now the United States stepped up its involvement, no longer acting simply as advisors, but sending troops as well. Fighting intensified.

A few hundred miles to the north of Quang's hospital in Saigon was a resort town called Da Lat. Beyond the town, farther into the mountains, lived some primitive tribes, who spoke only their own dialect and wore nothing but loincloths. A few had become acquainted with the Seventh Day Adventists in Da Lat, and the church people had taught them the Vietnamese language as well as Christianity. Those natives had converted other villagers to this new religion.

Now, as war escalated, these tribes were hard-hit. Communist soldiers burned their houses, destroyed their crops, and killed and wounded many. Tragically, they were effectively sealed off from help because the route to them was too dangerous. "The Vietcong kept troops in the jungles to kill any foreigners they spotted," Quang explains. Traveling into this remote area would be madness. But when people at the Saigon hospital heard about it, they knew someone had to bring help to the villagers. Four volunteered-the American president of the mission, an Australian physician, a Norwegian nurse, and Quang as interpreter. The Vietnamese pastor of the church in Da Lat decided to join them, too. for us." The others nodded. They all felt the same-the journey was somehow blessed.

First they prayed together. Then they packed a van with much needed food, seeds and grain for planting, and medical supplies, and drove it to Da Lat. There they met a group of perhaps thirty natives, who had come to cany everything the rest of the way, since the jungle trails could not accommodate a van.

"We set off, and walked for ten hours through the mountain wilderness," Quang recalls. "The five of us certainly knew what extreme danger we were in. There was little doubt we were being watched by the Vietcong, and we expected to be stopped." Other missionaries, they knew, had ventured into this area, and had never been seen again. The Vietcong had no mercy on those who invaded their territory.

They reached the village safely. However, the natives confirmed their suspicions: a unit of about twenty enemy soldiers was nearby. They were heavily armed, looking for hidden guns or radios, and had probably watched the procession all through the jungle. It was just a matter of time before they emerged from the brush and arrested everyone. Quang and the others weren't sure such a thing would happen. Hadn't they felt protected since the beginning of their journey? Hadn't they "prayed without ceasing," as the Bible instructed? They decided to bathe and rest. "We walked to a cold mountain stream," Quang says, "but as we stood in the refreshing water, the villagers came running in alarm. Behind them were Vietcong soldiers."

Grimly the Vietcong ordered the missionaries to get out of the water and stand at gunpoint. Then the soldiers ransacked their possessions, looking for radio equipment, ammunition, or anything that would indicate a connection with the government. They found nothing. Frustrated, one of the soldiers looked up. "Where are the others?" he demanded. "Others?" Quang answered. "Do you mean the tribesmen?" "Not them," the soldier barked. "The others in your group." "There are no others," Quang explained. "Only the five of us." "Not five. Ten!" The soldier was adamant, and his men nodded.

"You come with us now!" Quang's heart sank. It was almost dark, and he was sure that he and the others were being taken away to be quietly murdered. But there was nothing to do but follow. "Tell the hospital what happened to us," he advised the stricken townspeople. Then he and the others began, once again, to walk.

Eventually they reached a campsite belonging to the Vietcong. Instead of shooting them, however, the soldiers gave them food and sat down around them. And the story emerged. As Quang and the others had suspected, the enemy had stealthIly followed them and their bearers all day long, planning to shoot them before they reached their destination. But the soldiers had not fired because of "the other five" tall people, dressed in radiant white, who walked alongside the missionaries through their entire journey. The soldiers had been fascinated with these glowing strangers, and could not stop looking at them. "Where did they go?" one asked, mystified.