Where do we look when we need signs of hope? The answer often depends on how deep in despair we find ourselves. Are we facing a season of overwhelming loss, or just hoping that a new diet pill might get us “beach” ready in five days? No matter where we fall on the spectrum, from mild discouragement to total hopelessness, I truly believe we all search for hope at some point.
Hope has many forms. For some, it’s a kind word from a stranger. For others, it’s the return of sunlight after days of rain. For me, hope sometimes shows up in more mysterious ways. I’ve had moments when I’ve asked the universe for a sign, and received what I believe were angel signs of reassurance in return. It could be a feather in your path or a song on the radio that spoke directly to my heart. Some people might call them coincidences. I see them as reminders that we’re never truly alone, and that there’s something greater out there, beyond what we can see, quietly cheering us on. That thought fills me with hope.
I hope you enjoy some of the “coincidences” I have experienced. There have been many, but I will share a few of my favorites.
Pennies from Heaven
Throughout my childhood, I heard all kinds of stories from my parents and grandparents of visits or experiences of those that passed or almost passed to the great beyond or as they would explain it heaven. My great-uncle, who once died and was revived, would only say one thing about what he saw: “It was beautiful.” My grandmother said that she saw her deceased brother in the yard one day. My mom, who was supposed to not survive her brain surgery, had a visit from her parents that explained why she had to stay and who they took in her place.
With stories like these passed down through generations, it’s no wonder I hold a deep belief in angels, and in the bigger picture of life. There are just some things we’re not meant to fully understand. But that doesn’t make them any less real.
Once my dad swore that while he was thinking about his dad that had recently passed, he felt someone hit his foot that was resting on the recliner he was sitting in at the time. That is how we started our discussion of what sign he could send me when it was his time to cross over. He said he would send me pennies from Heaven.
Years later, on the day I said my final goodbye, I leaned in close and whispered in my dad’s ear, telling him I loved him, and asking him to let me know he got there okay. That was his last day on earth. We had to do the normal part of death and notify everyone and plan the funeral. My Uncle was coming from out of town to stay with my brother who just moved into a brand newly constructed home. My uncle was a carpenter, and my brother was very interested in giving him the “construction tour” to get my uncle’s review of the quality of the construction. To prepare for the tour my brother swept out the garage. The next morning, just as they were getting into the car for the funeral, my uncle paused and said, “Look at this,” as he picked up a shiny penny from the garage floor. He had no idea about the deal I had with my dad, but my brother did and took the penny from him. My sister-in-law came running up to me with excitement and put the penny in my hand. I knew he got there ok.
Now, some might say it was just a missed penny on the floor, nothing special, just a coincidence. But in my world, those pennies are something more. Whenever I’m feeling down or missing my dad, finding one feels like he’s still near. It gives me hope. And I love sharing this story, because sometimes, it gives others that same comfort, that maybe their loved ones are still close, too.
I remember once when I went back to college and was sitting in the student lounge with a small group of classmates, waiting for our next class to begin. One of the students was visibly upset, overwhelmed with guilt for having to place her mom in a nursing home just before she passed away. I gently shared my penny story with her and told her I believed her mom was still around, just in a different way now.
She got up to buy a soda from the machine and a penny flew out the change dispenser. She gasped and cried tears of joy or maybe relief from the guilt. Then, as we headed into class, she suddenly shouted, “Turn around!” I did, and there, under the seat she always sat in, was a small pile of coins.
About a year later, I ran into her again on campus. She hugged me and thanked me for telling that story. She said that from that day forward, her grief became more manageable, because she, too, had come to believe in pennies from heaven.
And here’s the beautiful truth, hope is always there. It may be faint, and it may take effort to see it, but if we’re willing to look closely, really look, it reveals itself. In the smallest moments, the quietest gestures, or even in the courage to try again, hope lives.
As I was writing this very story my watch alarm went off. I did not set my watch alarm, and it read “look alive”. Was that a coincidence or is it the universe saying it like this story? Stay tuned for the next:
Signs of Hope!
If you have a story that gives you hope, I would love to hear it!
Patricia A Woods
