Soon after my Father died, I decided that every morning for one month and at 6:00 am, I was going to sit on my favorite bench that overlooks the ocean. I once sat here with my Father and listened to him telling me of his dream of building a 30 foot replica of the Santa Maria ship. My Father was a boat builder and since his childhood he had been building and designing boats. I felt closer to my Father sitting on that bench; and with my hot coffee and a melted cheese croissant, it was an easy challenge I enjoyed through the winter season. Close to the end of the month; an older lady came and sat next to me. She too was holding her coffee as she bundled up her heavy coat to keep warm. We sat there and had a long conversation. She met me on the same bench every morning for four days and I enjoyed her company. But one morning she stopped coming and for the remaining 5 days of the month I didn't see her; I worried she had fallen ill. I went back the following month hoping I would see her again so I sat there again at 6:00 AM and waited.

While alone at night, have you ever been suddenly and uncontrollably overwhelmed by sadness for no reason? You cried without understanding why. Were you drawn to do something but you didn't know what? You felt a struggling urge to flee to somewhere familiar in hopes of understanding your feelings and finding the answer; and the first place you thought of going was where you experienced the last memory of happiness you once had. This happened to me.

Then it happened. While on the floor and not being able to breathe nor lift my head, I laid next to our large screen television and saw the feet of many men appear and surround me. They were slightly transparent as I could see some of them standing inside the TV Console. I notice they were all wearing the same dark sand color sandal and their white long robes draped just above the ankle. They seem to be dressed in clothing similar to Jesus' time. I was only able to lift my head partially as I couldn't see beyond their knees so I wasn't able to see their faces. I knew they were men because their legs were hairy and I could even see the hair on their toes. I counted two, four, six, eight sandals and I couldn't turn my head to count the others. There must have been at least 12 men surrounding me. Somehow I knew they were guarding my body and I knew they were angels. I could see the texture in their fabric as they slightly moved while they stood guard.

I set the camera's configurations then gave it to my friend and directed him on what kind of shots I wanted. I told him to wait until I was fully wet. I made my way into the water and plunged myself into a wave. Nearby was a rock formation that was exposed in the water. I knew if I stood next to it and I held on to it as though I was holding on for life during a storm, it would make for a dramatic picture. As I was trying to find my footing and pose for the shot, I glanced up and saw a thin and fragile man of 75 years of age making his way through the waves as he approached me. He reached out his trembling hand to me in desperation. I immediately held his hand and arm with both of my hands so he wouldn't fall. Then he said, "I know you're not the real Jesus but can you pray for me?" I said, yes of course I'll pray for you. I asked him what was wrong. He said he had cancer. I looked into his eyes as they filled up with tears. There was a short silence between us as I felt very sad for him. I grabbed his hand and arm tightly and I looked up at the heavens and cried out Jesus! Jesus! have mercy! Oh Jesus! I started to pray, then the waves became very violent. We stood our ground as I shouted out for mercy but then I couldn't hear my own voice anymore as though the holy spirit had taken over my words.