Angels Never Say Hello!

by Dottie Walters

My grandma told me about angels. She said they come knocking at the

door of our hearts, trying to deliver a message to us. I saw them in

my mind's eye with a big mail sack slung between their wings and a

post office cap set jauntily on their head. I wondered if the stamps

on their letters said "Heaven Express." "No use waiting for the angel

to open your door," Grandma explained. "You see, there is only one

door handle on the door of your heart. Only one bolt. They are on

the inside. Your side. You must listen for the angel, throw open

the lock and open up that door!"

I loved the story and asked her again and again to tell me, "What

does the angel do then?" "The angel never says 'hello.' You reach out

and take the message, and the angel gives you your instructions:

'Arise and go forth!' then the angel flies away.

It is your responsibility to take action."

However, there was one time when the knocking stopped. It happened

when my daughter, Lilly, was badly hurt in an accident. She was

riding on the back of a forklift her father rented to move some hay

for our horses. Lilly and two of the neighbor children begged him to

let them ride on the forklift when he took it back to the rental

place. Going down a little hill, the steering gear broke. Her father

almost pulled his arms out of their sockets trying to hold the big

rig on the road before it turned over. The little neighbor girl

broke her arm. Lilly's father was knocked unconscious. Lilly was

pinned underneath, with the huge weight of the rig on her left hand.

Gasoline spilled out, burning her legs and hip.

The neighbor boy was unhurt and kept his wits. He ran out and

stopped traffic. We rushed Lilly to Orthopedic Hospital in Los Angles

where they began a long series of operations, each time amputating

more of her hand as gangrene ate more away. Lilly had just started

piano lessons.

During this time I often drove off by myself to cry, not wanting

others to see me. I couldn't stop. I found I did not have the

concentration to read anything. No angels knocked. There was a

heavy silence in my heart. I kept thinking of all the things Lilly

would never do because of this terrible accident.

When we took her back to the hospital for the sixth operation, my

spirit was very low. I am a writer, I had looked forward with great

anticipation to her taking typing lessons the next year. The

therapist at the hospital confirmed my fears, "Don't worry, she'll do

other things." I kept thinking over and over, "She will never type!

Never type. Never type."

We set her bag down in the hospital room and suddenly turned around

because a young teenage girl in the next bed said to us in a

commanding voice: "I've been waiting for you! You go down the hall

right now, third room on the left! There is a boy there who was hurt

in a motorcycle accident. You go down there and lift up his spirit,

right now!" She had the voice of a field marshal. We immediately

obeyed her. We talked to the boy and encouraged him, and then came

back to Lilly's hospital room.

For the first time I noticed that this unusual girl was bent way

over. "Who are you?" I asked. "My name is Toni Daniels," she

grinned. "I go to the handicapped high school. This time the

doctors are going to make me a whole inch taller! You see, I had

polio. I have had many operations."

She had the charisma and strength of a General Schwartzkopf. I

couldn't help the words that came flying out of my mouth, "But you

aren't handicapped!"

"Oh, yes, you are right," she replied, looking sideways at me. "They

teach us down at our school that we are never handicapped as long as

we can help someone else. Now, if you met my schoolmate who teaches

the typing class, you might think she is handicapped because she was

born with no arms and no legs. But she helps all of us by teaching

us typing, with a wand between her teeth."

Ka bang! Suddenly I heard it-the clanging noise of pounding and

kicking and yelling at the door of my heart! I ran out of the room

and down the corridor to find a pay phone. I asked the operator for

the giant of the 1960's typing world - IBM! In my haste I didn't

stop to consider I was just getting the number for some small a local

sales office. I was arising, and going through that opening door!

I asked for the Manager, I wanted to go straight to the top! I told

him my little girl had lost nearly all of her left hand, and if they

had one-hand touch-typing charts. He paused a long moment, "Well now,

this is very odd. I'd never heard of such a thing until a few days

ago. Someone sent me a one-handed typing manual, it's right here on

my desk. Let's see, it has charts for the right hand, or the left

hand. Let me send it to you as my gift."

It wasn't until very recently we realized how rare these one hand

typing manuals are, and what a miracle it was for him to have it on

his desk the day I called. Today no one at IBM seems to be aware that

a person with one hand might want to type like everyone else!

When we were finally able to take Lilly back to school, I took the

one-hand typing charts with me. I asked the school principal if Lilly

could take typing, even though she was too young. He told me I could

ask the typing teacher if I wanted to, perhaps the teacher would

volunteer his time at lunch, "After all, she certainly can't be

allowed to slow down the entire class - and we certainly can't pay

him for his time." My heart sank.

But the typing teacher, Mr. Fredrigill, was wonderful. He just smiled

at us and said, "We will find a way. We'll just learn one hand touch

typing together." I have since heard of so many unwilling to take on

a child with a challenge. On the first day of class, he sat down with

Lilly 30 minutes before the others came in. That was all it took, she

continued on with the class.

Soon she was touch-typing all of her homework. Her English teacher

scolded her; "Your mother is typing your homework. Don't let her baby

you, Lilly. You have a good right hand. You can write out your own

homework."

"Oh, no sir." She smiled at him I'm up to 30 words a minute with my

touch-typing."

The teacher sat down suddenly. Then he said slowly, "Being able to

type has always been my dream." He was a polio victim. His right arm

hung helplessly by his side.

"Come to the typing room, during lunch time. I'll teach you!" It was

after the first lunch time lesson that she came home and said, "Mama,

Toni Daniels was right. I'm not handicapped anymore - I am helping

someone else."

Today, Lilly is the author of six internationally acclaimed books,

helping a great many people. She has taught all of our office staff

to use our Apple computers with our mouse pad on the left side,

because that is where she makes hers fly around with what remains of

her hand. We are all handicapped in comparison to her computer and

typing skills!

She has now created her own "One Hand Typing and Keyboarding Manual:

With Personal Motivational Messages From Others Who Have Overcome!"

because she still will tell you, that you are not handicapped, when

you can help someone else. (http://www.aboutonehandtyping.com)

Shush. Listen! Do you hear the knocking? Throw the bolt! Open the

door! Angels never say "hello." Their greeting is always "Arise and

go forth!"

by Dottie Walters, (c) 2000,

- from Lilly Walters' One Hand Typing and Keyboarding Manual: With

Personal Motivational Messages From Others Who Have Overcome!

****** No portion of this publication may be reproduced in any

manner whatsoever without prior written consent from Lilly Walters

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