My Angel and Me

By Martha Manning

God communicates with me, protects me, and shows me His love through an angel, which He gave to me when I was born in Martinez, Georgia, in 1936. My story takes place in the small towns of Martinez and Evans, Georgia until I became seventeen years of age. After high school graduation, I married a Methodist minister and the South Carolina Methodist bishop sent us to churches in different areas of South Carolina. In this book, the reader will find out exactly how life was spent in each of these churches. When my husband died in 2006, I moved to Rock Hill, South Carolina, and that is where I live now. My angel has provided guidance and assistance to me throughout my entire life and this fact is illustrated in this book through actual experiences. As you see, my angel on the front of this book is wearing a tilted halo to show the world that life is not always perfect, but we can receive guidance to help us through all of life's situations. Three times I have seen my angel in person. Other times, I have felt the angel's presence and heard the words spoken by my angel. My angel lets me know that God is near me. Read this book to discover the three times my angel thought it was most important to visit me in person. As you read, I pray that you will be aware of your angel in your life guiding you. Remember, God is your Heavenly Father and His desire is to love you. Your faith will acknowledge the hand of God caring for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781640795945

Martha Manning

Martha Manning, Ph.D., is a writer, clinical psychologist, and former professor of psychology at George Mason University. She is the author of Undercurrents: A Life Beneath the Surface; Chasing Grace: Reflections of a Catholic Girl, Grown Up; and All Seasons Pass: Grieving Miscarriage. Manning has been recognized by the National Institutes of Mental Health for her work in education and advocacy and was awarded the American Psychiatric Association 1996 Presidential Award for Patient Advocacy. Her work has appeared in numerous publications, including the New York Times Book Review, the Washington Post, Ladies' Home Journal, and New Woman. She has been featured on Dateline NBC, Good Morning America, C-SPAN, The Early Show, NPR's "Voice of America," and other radio and television programs.

Book preview

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My Angel and Me

Martha Manning

ISBN 978-1-64079-593-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64079-594-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2017 by Martha Manning

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

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This book, My Angel and Me, is lovingly dedicated to my late husband, the Rev. Frank Manning, displaying my love and appreciation to him for providing a Christian environment for my three children and me for fifty-two and a half years. I know he is with God and that he is aware of all the information I have shared about our life together on this earth.

He was a man of God, and it was evident in all that he did. His favorite Bible verse was "He has showed you, O man, what is good and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8, RSV).

Introduction

As I sit here in my sunroom reminiscing about my life, the early morning sun has begun its slow ascent, attempting to brighten the area where I am sitting. I hope the rays will shine upon me since there have been so many cold days around here lately. When the sun shares itself with me, it seems to help my mind develop all the bygone memories I have experienced during my life.

For a long time, I have contemplated the idea of sharing my life story in writing so that some people would be tempted to read how life was in my early years (1936 until 2017). I plan to tell about the different things that happened to me as I grew and matured with my guardian angel.

God provides me with so many opportunities to tell my story. I pray that my words, actions, and attitudes will bless all those who read it. The information that I share has been selected from actual situations in my life as I grew up, the oldest child of five in my family. I hope lessons can be learned from the experiences I went through as I lived married fifty-plus years to a minister of the United Methodist Church in South Carolina.

My life has not been all sunshine and roses. As my faith grew, the hardships I experienced were exposed as stepping stones to my maturity. My enthusiasm for living my life as a Christian increased, as well as my faithfulness to God, because I have always been guided by the presence of my angel.

I do not think that I possess a golden pen and have a gift to sway people’s souls, but I do believe that I have a meaningful story to tell. With my angel’s help, I pray that my story will strengthen the reader’s belief in God. Also, I pray that the reader will recognize how God sends an angel to come into our lives when we are placed in everyday situations. If we listen, the angel will relay the plans God has made for us, which will aid in developing our future.

While studying the Bible, especially the book of Acts, I find many angelic interventions, when God sent angels to help the people with their daily lives. It is evident to me that angels are active in my world, today. I have had the privilege of experiencing angels in my life. My angel has guided me in serious matters, and other times, the situations have been funny or a little devious. Sometimes, my angel wears a tilted halo to let me know that life is not always perfect, but we can receive guidance to help us make it through any circumstance.

As you read my story, you will witness many events in my life where my prayers were answered in God’s timing and not mine. It is a comfort to know that I am protected by my angel and encouraged to listen to God’s will, knowing that death from this world is only a transition to a better life. Death is not an end to our living. We just change our address.

My main hope for sharing my life in this book is to develop a godly inspiration in the minds of each person who reads this information. I encourage the reader to pray in such a way that you will be aware of your angel in your life guiding you.

The events that I have chosen to share in this book express how much God loves me, and I know He loves you, too. All you need do is acknowledge the fact that angels are real in our world today. I ask you to lift your praise and thanksgiving to God for your guidance. Remember this verse from the Bible: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths" (Ps. 3:5–6, RSV).

1

My Birth, My Angel,

My Siblings, and My Parents

My life began on February 21, 1936, when I was born to Patti Irene (Lewis) Richardson and Alexander Turner Richardson in Martinez, Georgia, near Augusta. Of course, I do not remember being there, but I have been told about that night. I was born on the coldest night of the year. There were icicles hanging from the roof of the house and the trees.

I was the first baby born in this Richardson family. They named me Martha Joyce Richardson. Mama has informed me that my birth was very painful, and she was having a seriously scary time because she had developed pneumonia. She had a hard time breathing while she was experiencing the birth pains. Many people had died with pneumonia during that winter season. Dr. Weeks was there at our house, and he had a difficult time keeping Mama alive. At this time, doctors did most of their treatment to patients while they remained in their homes.

During the birthing process, Mama was having convulsions and high fever. She was cold, so they heated bricks in the fireplace, wrapped them in towels, and placed the hot bricks around her body and on her feet. I have seen the scars on her feet where the bricks came unwrapped and burned her. She was not conscious enough to feel the hot bricks. She carried scars on her feet for the rest of her life.

When I was born, I was very small. The doctor estimated that I weighed less than five pounds, and they thought I would not survive. They put me in a market basket lined with towels and placed me on the hearth near the open fire. I was ignored for a while because Mama was having so many problems. The miracle was, by morning, everyone heard me cry. Then Dr. Weeks began attending to me. From the beginning of my life, the doctor announced that God had assigned me a guardian angel and my angel was protecting me. Early in my life, I learned that an angel took care of me during the time I was in the basket near the fire.

It is peaceful to know that I have a guardian angel assigned to me. There are angels recorded in many places in the Bible, and they are described as the spiritual beings created by God to watch over all His children on earth. I have felt my angel and heard the voice speak to me many times. I feel blessed that I have seen my angel come and flap the wings to put out a fire that I had in a pot on my stove about two years ago. I stood there in amazement, watching as the fire went out. There was only smoke damage. From experiences, I know my angel is watching over me night and day. Whenever I feel discouraged in any way, God sends my angel to be with me. With the presence of my angel, there is always a feeling of calmness. I thank God, every day for the special protection and guidance I receive from the work of my guardian angel.

Mama and Daddy had three other children by the time I was in first grade—two girls and a boy. They were Edna Fay (born September 3, 1937), Betty LaDora (Sis, born March 17, 1939), and Jimmy Ray (born September 29, 1941). Later, on October 11, 1946, our little sister was born. She was named Patsy Jane, and we called her Pat. I was ten years old then, and I felt as if she was my baby because I did so much for her because Mama was sick a great deal of the time and not physically able to care for her.

I remember all the good times we had playing together. Mama always had time to spend with us. Now, I know these play sessions were filled with learning activities that helped develop our minds. We learned many nursery rhymes, and we would act out the characters and perform for Daddy when he got home from work. I think my parents were special people because they did the best they knew how to provide and care for us, even though sometimes we felt they were too strict when we wanted to do certain things. When I became a parent and dealt with my own children, I understood and appreciated the guidance they had given me.

Now I will tell you about my parents. Daddy was the fourth child of eight, born in Ninety Six, South Carolina. He was born on March 12, 1907, and died on September 23, 1978. He was educated through the tenth grade then stayed at home to help his parents on the farm. I learned from his brother that he was very intelligent in math. I became aware of this talent when he helped me with my homework. Math became easier to me when Daddy taught me. I soon became aware of Daddy’s special talent when I learned that he could make or repair almost anything. He became a carpenter and machinist by trade. Most of his life, he was employed at Castleberry’s Food Company in Augusta, Georgia, and never missed a day of work. The company made many meat products that were shipped all over the United States. On his job, he was known as Rich, a nickname for Richardson.

Besides working at Castleberry’s Food Company, he built houses and made house repairs for people in our community. He took me with him as his errand girl. I learned the names of all the tools in his toolbox, and I looked forward to going with him when he went to work. We developed a closeness being together so much, and I felt that I was important to him when he needed me.

Daddy was a very stern man who kept his thumb on everything. In other words, he wanted to be in control of his family. He made it clear that we must be aware of all the rules or there would be trouble. I think he was a proud man, and whatever he did, he did it perfectly. He expected the same from each of us.

I remember writing a homework paper over and over until it met Daddy’s approval. He helped me develop my desire to reach for the high degree of excellence. In all the tasks I have faced throughout my life, I thank Daddy that he gave me such positive guidance when I was young. I can still hear him saying to me, You can do it, when I am placed in a difficult situation, even though he is no longer here in person. His voice was dominant, and it made a lasting impression in my mind.

He came to Georgia with his father, who owned a pulpwood cutting business. They were cutting trees in Grovetown, Georgia, when he met Mama. The group of workers was boarding at the Lewis Plantation House (Mama’s grandparents’ home). I read in the History and Genealogy of Amos Richardson and His Descendants, published in 1989, that Daddy cleared fifty cents a day after paying the boarding fee. From the stories that I have heard, Daddy made himself at home at Mama’s house after his workday. It seems that everybody in her family grew to love him, and he loved them.

Mama, the third child of five surviving siblings, was born in Grovetown, Georgia, on November 5, 1918, and died on April 13, 2004. Mama’s parents had ten children—five lived and five died. Big Mama, as my grandmother was affectionately called, had two sets of twins, and they died at birth. A little boy named George died when he was a young baby, about four months old.

Mama was educated through the eighth grade. While growing up, she was sick a lot and had difficulty with reading and some other academics. She was very attractive and had a winning personality that enabled her to be a good mother and housewife. Her best attributes were her creative abilities—cooking, sewing, and making crafts. She could make something wonderful out of almost nothing. She had a beautiful voice and taught us many little songs with hand and body movements as she sang to us. She knew the words to many popular songs of that time, such as Baby Face, April Showers, I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover, Paper Doll, Turkey in the Straw, and many more songs. As I reminisce, I can still hear her beautiful voice as she sang to us and in church.

Mama had a sickness called St. Vitus Dance, a condition associated with rheumatic fever. This disorder affects the nervous system, often attacking children from age eight to puberty. I learned that Mama was about ten years old when she got sick with St. Vitus Dance, which required treatment for about a year. While her symptoms diminished, she continued to show signs of the disease when she reacted to situations around the house, even as she reached adulthood. This defect appeared in her writing ability, and she complained about her legs hurting.

Mama and Daddy dated during part of 1934 and got married in June 1935. They went to North Augusta, South Carolina, to get married. Daddy was twenty-seven years old, and Mama was sixteen. With Daddy being eleven years older than Mama, it might explain why he always expressed his authority in most situations in our life. Probably, he felt more experienced because of his age.

I remember Daddy did have a problem. He drank alcohol almost every day, and sometimes he showed his authority in negative ways, like throwing things and shouting at us. Other times, he had a heart of gold. I know he was sorry after he displayed his negative actions because he would get in the car and leave home. As I evaluate these situations that occurred in our family environment, I remember how Daddy acted, and it makes me think he might have had bipolar disorder. At that time, bipolar was not a medical term diagnosed by doctors, and I am not aware of any treatment for people’s extreme reactions to daily situations. We learned to try to keep things calm and positive when he was at home to try to avoid flare-ups.

2

Love Expressed

I never heard a curse word spoken in my home as I was growing up. Also, I never heard the word love said either. We were not an affectionate family, and I do not ever remember being told I love you. But deep down in my heart, I knew my parents loved me by the display of other pleasing actions toward me and the way they provided for all our daily needs. True, they exhibited the characteristics of the meaning of love, but I remember yearning to hear the word love in my life. This kind of family living, void of hearing the word love , created a form of worry in my mind until I was in fourth grade. Then I learned what love really was from my schoolteacher.

In fourth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Roundtree, encouraged each student to choose someone to read about and write a short essay describing the message we had learned. When I went to the library, I found a book about Helen Keller, and as I read about her, I found out she was blind and deaf from the age of nineteen months old. I learned how she adjusted situations in her life to be suitable for her condition. The most important thing that I learned was a statement that she made. It is, The most loving things in the world do not have to be heard or seen, but must be felt with the heart. This statement opened my mind to the true meaning of love.

At an early age, Helen Keller became one of my favorite people. When I had a disappointment in life, I read her quote, which I had sitting on my dresser. She said, So much has been given to me I have not time to ponder over that which has been denied me. She always kept me on the right track while I was growing up, and her message still remains in my mind.

Love really came alive to me when I met my husband, Frank. I learned that love is just a word until someone comes along and gives the word direct meaning. At my age now, after living a lifetime on this earth, I am happy to share with the reader my definition of love. I have found through life experiences that love is the passionate affection between people that opens the doors to eternal happiness.

As I evaluate my growing-up years at home, I can proudly admit there was love shared with each of us daily, although not spoken. Mama and Daddy expressed high values and wanted the best for us to experience, so that we would develop into productive adults.

Their attitudes toward our education were very important. They made it clear to us that their affection for us was not based on our daily performance in school. They realized that each of us had different abilities. Daddy rewarded us on report card day for good grades; each A got fifty cents; each B, twenty-five cents; each C, ten cents; and each D, five cents. That does not appear like much, but it was a lot of money for us at that time in our lives, and it was an incentive to encourage us to study and try to do our best each day with any job we were given to complete.

I have learned that children do not need parents with college degrees in order to make a difference in their children’s future. We knew our parents wanted us to be prepared in a way that we could take care of ourselves as adults, and we all worked hard to learn all that we could. My parents encouraged us to never go to school without all our homework finished. This was one way they expressed their love for us.

Life was difficult at that time, compared to our contemporary standards of today. As I remember my growing-up years at home, I know Mama lived each day planning activities for us to enjoy. We were her life! We enjoyed playing games together, and the times we spent making cookies were great. There are not many mamas staying at home with their children today because the economy has changed the family environment. In today’s world, it takes both parents working in order to pay all the bills, but Mama was home every day when we got off of the school bus. We did not have all the frills in life, but our parents gave us all that we needed.

Today, I see children feeling alienated from the mainstream of society if they do not wear name-brand clothes and do not drive their own car to school. In other words, children want to feel like they are a part of the in group. There was no such group when I was in school. We all wore