I was raking up apples in front of my house early one morning when a guy stopped on the sidewalk next to me and said, “Lemme see your rake,” in a tone that suggested he simply wanted to examine my rake more closely.
Confused, I handed it to him.
He turned and without a word continued walking down the sidewalk. I yelled after him, but he didn’t respond.
Who steals a rake?
An hour later, John saw him walking down Washington Avenue a few miles from here still carrying the rake.
The rake seemed to be gone for good, but then a couple hours later he showed up at our front door to return it. He said thanks and when John asked if he’d gotten good use out of the rake he said he had.
It was so incredibly bizarre in so many ways. Someone suggested he was an angel. I like that. A big burly angel who smokes. And needed a rake for a couple hours to do God’s work somewhere down Washington Avenue.