I've been convinced for a lot of my life that my angel is African. I have a couple of stories that have happened to me this last month that has convinced me even more.
Andrew left Spain on May 1st to head back to the US. I stayed back to finish out one more week of work, pay the bills, wrap up the the last minute details.
The wednesday before I was supposed to leave, I went to the gym to try and work out some last minute stress. My gym is a rather Rocky Balboa type gym, and we tend to have Africans that come to work out, but they usually keep to themselves, or talk to the guys and not usually me.
I felt like doing weights and I walked over to the lat pull down machine. I was making the weights lighter, when this ginormous African, leaned over and said, "Don't do that, you are a strong woman."
I blinked, and obeyed, and he was right. I could do it. He talked with me briefly, and then went away. Strangely enough, he had two small boys with him. Most of the Africans in our neighborhood usually are alone.
As I left Spain that Saturday, a friend of mine hugged me tight and said, "Be Strong." and the African's words echoed in my head along with Sambucs for the days to come.
Still in the US, we were traveling back to Atlanta from time in Chicago, and our plane was drastically overbooked. Andrew went up to the counter and talked to a very attractive black man. He wasn't African...but...
A few minutes later, He called Andrew's name, and handed us first class tickets. I noticed he never really seemed to talk to anyone else, he obviously was the bossman.
I'll write more later on our Africans=Angels in disguise.