I ducked into the ladies’ room to gain my composure. While traveling to an out-of-state event, something occurred along the way that emotionally devastated me and I arrived at the restaurant in a state of shock.

Not wanting friends to see me like this or ruin the event with the heaviness of my spirit, the restroom seemed a likely place to hide out until I got myself together. Hopefully, it was empty.

Standing at the sink, bewildered, I heard someone exit a stall. A tall, slender blonde woman in white lace and satin heels walked directly up to me.

“You okay, hon?” she asked softly.

“I’m, uh, not sure,” I mumbled, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I could see her face in the mirror, too. It seemed to emanate a warm glow. Her look of tender concern was like that of a mother whose toddler had just skinned a knee, wanting to make it all better.

“Aww, honey, sit, sit.” She gently nudged me onto a plush red-velvet bench in the sitting area. “There, there, dear,” she consoled.

I felt her pure compassion somehow permeate my entire being. It caused me to relax my shoulders and surrender into a well of grief. I wept for what seemed like a long time, and she stayed by my side—her arm around my shoulders, dabbing my cheeks with a tissue.

Sinking deeper into despair, I couldn’t rationalize how I might process the trauma of what just happened, so I considered getting in my car and driving back home through the night. Then the woman said something that sent tingles up my spine and instantly calmed me.

“You know, abuse is not love. Don’t let anyone who claims to love you, convince you otherwise.”

Her words stunned me into stillness. How did she know? I didn’t have clarity of mind to answer that question but it didn’t matter. Whatever wisdom she’d just beamed into me obviously originated beyond mere thought or reason. I stared into her blue eyes and felt truly seen for the first time in my life—so much so that I didn’t doubt that I was accepted and loved for who I was, flaws and all.

“It’s all going to be okay, dear.” Her words could have been a sonnet, a lullaby, a prayer, a psalm . . . her voice, that of an elder wise woman, a medicine priestess, a counselor in spirit. It vibrated to and through me, just for me.

“God loves you, and I am so proud of you.”

My entire body released, like popping the cap off a soda bottle so the carbonation can aerate. Suddenly back in my body and aware of my surroundings, I felt embarrassed that I had broken down like a hot mess in front of a total stranger in a public place. I shrugged off my pain.

“I’m fine. Really. You should go. I’m sorry. Honestly, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, doll, well you take all the time you need. I’ll check on you in a bit, okay?” The intoxicating scent of summer roses lingered in her wake. Was it her perfume?

Minutes passed. Though still fragile, something big had shifted. A firm sense of resolve—redemption, even—enveloped me. It gave me the courage to stand up and walk back to the sink. I can’t stay in here forever, I thought.

I took a long breath, splashed cold water on my face and wiped the smears of mascara from under my eyes. Who was that woman? I wanted to thank her for her kindness, her presence, her knowing of what I most needed.

I exited the bathroom in search of her. It was a small place, only two dining rooms—one where my party was gathered and another with cozy booths and high-top tables near the bar. I didn’t see her, so I asked the hostess to find me the blond woman in a white dress.

After a quick perusal of the restaurant, the hostess returned. “She must not be here yet. Would you like to be seated or wait for her here?”

She’d vanished as quickly as she had appeared, this Divine guide in human form. Our encounter was brief yet indelible, leaving me with a sense of comfort and peace that minutes earlier seemed unobtainable. Just then my friends spotted me at the hostess stand and gathered around me with hugs and hellos. Yes, everything was going to be okay.

 

Do you have a story to tell in which a soul guide showed up and infused you with undaunted courage? Repeatedly called your attention to something important? Or allowed you to expand into your higher self by giving you an archetype or ideal in which to aspire?

If yes, submit your 800 – 2200 word true, personal story and join Marilyn Alauria in her upcoming book Guides: Mystical Connections to Soul Guides and Divine Teachers. Click GUIDES for more info.

 

Or possibly you had a mystical encounter with angel or ancestor? Nature or an animal? Or a profound meditation vision? Here is your chance to share it in one of our other upcoming books.

Submissions for all books are being accepted through June 30, 2021. Send us yours as early as you can, as we have limited space and some of the books are already filling up! Click Common Sentience for more info!