It was the Millennium year just before Christmas. I was on the approach to my fortieth birthday. I experienced a real mid-life crisis at that time. I don’t know why. Nothing was really wrong, but I felt like running away from my life and everything I knew.
On the 22nd of December, I went out for a family meal at a local restaurant. My mother presented me with a lovely birthday cake and had invited my brother and favourite uncle along as a surprise. Following the meal, the candles were lit and I blew them out. I remember feeling blessed that the people who meant most to me in life were there. We went home and I thought nothing much more about it.
The following day, I was watching a Christmas movie in my bedroom, one I had never seen before called ‘One Magic Christmas’.
There were so many similarities in it to my own life. The wife in the story never got the Christmas present she asked Father Christmas for as a child which was a Mr Potato Head. I had remembered writing a similar letter to him on Christmas and never got the present I asked for either, which was a Sindy Doll. So I could relate to this tale very well.
It transpired that the wife in the movie had a guardian angel named, Gideon. That was odd, I had always thought mine had the same name too.
I watched the film and enjoyed it and was about to get up to get ready to go out as we were due to deliver a Christmas present to my husband’s grandmother at her nursing home. Then I spotted it. A small Mr Potato Head on the cupboard in the bedroom. That was strange, I hadn’t remembered seeing my children play with one of those before. I knew that I certainly had not bought them one. So I asked my daughter did she know anything about it. She replied that yes, she did. A man had come up to her on the way out of the restaurant where my birthday celebration was being held and placed it in her hand. She had no idea who the man was. I assumed perhaps it was a member of staff.
Then later that day as we parked up at the nursing home and I got out of the car, I noticed a small white feather stuck to window on the passenger side where I had been sitting. That really made me wonder.
I related that tale to my daughter just last week and she found it incredible. She doesn’t remember being given that toy. I asked her if there were other times when we went to the restaurant when members of staff gave children small toys after their meals, and she said that as far as she was aware, they have never given toys to children.
Not long after that, my emotions settled down and I no longer felt as though I wanted to run away from life. Whatever happened, I can’t explain. Maybe they were all bizarre coincidences, but maybe not…