Was it Angels or my Dad

Shortly after my experience in hospital our family moved to Norton-on-the-Moors. It was a new housing estate that was still in the process of being built. I loved going into the buildings when no workers were there, looking around. Dad had a job as a bus driver, my mom was at home looking after the five of us, the eldest was almost eleven, the youngest was just 6 months old. We all were in awe listening to our parents talk about their experiences in the army and during the war. They talked about being in France and other places. I was seven years old when my father had a heart attack and passed away. It was a shock for mum, especially knowing we would not be able to afford staying in our new house. The neighbours helped us out with clothing and bringing casseroles and dishes to eat. I remember our relatives arriving on the day of the funeral, they looked quite scary, all dressed in black with veils covering their faces. Only my brother was allowed to attend the funeral. The rest of us were sent with one of the neighbours daughters for a walk in the nearby fields.

We did move, mum wanted to be close to her sister, our Aunty Edna, so we moved back to Salford into a rented house. We were only there a short while when mum managed to find another rental property that was more affordable. It was a two up two down terraced property. Typical of houses back then, the toilet was outside in a very small backyard. My parents had both been heavy smokers, mum still had the habit and she felt it made life less stressful. One day she told me to go and get her cigarettes from a shop that was about 15 minutes away. She knew the shop owner would sell the cigarettes to me and that she could have credit. I had to go down a few streets to get there. The first street had a family who had a young teenage boy who had some sort of mental issues, everyone knew about it as back in those days you all knew your neighbours quite well. I had no problems on the way there. However on the way back it was a different story. I was walking down the street on the same side as the boys house. Suddenly I heard my Dad's voice really loudly, I looked up and it was Dad's face looking at me and he said "Terry cross the street NOW." One always did exactly what dad said, so I immediately started to cross the street. At that moment the door opened where the teenage boy lived, he came running out with the poker from the fire. I was very fortunate that his mother had heard the front door open and she was right behind him. He was literally millimetres from my skull when she got the poker off him. I had fallen over in my rush to get to the other pavement. It was a very scary incident. But! was it my dad or my guardian angel. I think whichever it was, they have been very busy watching over me during my time on earth.