This really happened years ago to Oni and Baby, long-time members of the Familia evangelical lay ministry.
On a drive one morning to Clark Field, their tire blew out along the North Luzon Expressway. The car was Oni’s friend’s, brand new, which they were trying out for riding comfort. Oh well, so much for no-warranty factory accessories; the tire was beyond repair. They hurriedly screwed on the spare. Oni and his pal didn’t want to miss their golf reservation; Baby and their teen-age daughter were looking forward to a whole day of shopping.
On the drive back to Manila late that afternoon, Oni told his friend they should have taken time off to buy a new spare. He was pointing out the spot where they had a flat earlier when – bang! – the same right-rear tire blew out. The sun was setting, it was starting to drizzle, and they had no spare tire. Uh-oh, this means trouble.
Oni and his pal tried to flag down help. Cars just whizzed by. Who would dare stop for two men on a deserted stretch of highway, at dusk, under falling rain? After more than an hour, one motorist finally stopped. But his car was of a different brand; even if he lent his spare, the rim won’t fit Oni’s friend’s sedan. Before speeding off, he cautioned the men to be off before dark, for they were in dangerous parts.
Meanwhile, Baby had moved to the driver’s seat to watch from the rear-view mirror if help would come. She started to whisper a prayer wish: "Lord God, by the time I finish this Rosary, please send us an angel on the road to assist us." She kept glancing at the mirror, and felt guilty about not concentrating on her praying.
Oni and pal, shivering in the heavy shower, kept waving at passing vehicles, now sparser because darkness had set in. A car screeched to a stop. It was of the same brand. Baby remembers she was into her last two Hail Marys.
The driver said his coupe’s tire size was an inch smaller than their sedan’s, but he would gladly take them to the next exit where they could get a ride to town. Oni threw the worthless tire into the trunk and hopped in, leaving his friend to keep his womenfolk company.
The stranger said he was headed for one of the interior towns, and usually exited one toll gate back. But something told him to try the next exit this time, and thus came upon the family in distress. "It’s a good thing you did, thank you," Oni muttered from the back. Seated beside the stranger was a woman cradling an infant and never uttering a word. Oni presumed she must be the man’s wife.
At the exit, the stranger decided to drive onto town and help Oni find a repair shop. They knocked on several, until they found one that sold used tires. The stranger sped off while Oni was haggling with the shop owner for a replacement tire. Only then did Oni realize that he did not read which exit they took, and began to wonder where he could get a ride back onto the toll road.
Just as Oni was starting to look for a jeepney, the stranger drove by and said, "I had to return; I thought you wouldn’t be able to hire a ride this time of the night." Oni was elated. This was a rare, kind man indeed.
On the drive back, a bit more relaxed, Oni introduced himself. The stranger said his name was Angel E. Manuel. "Oh, did I get it right?" Oni asked, "Is that Angel Manuel, sir?"
"No, it’s Angel E. Manuel," the stranger smiled, stressing his middle initial. The infant kept sleeping; the woman still didn’t say a word.
Back at the lonely stretch, Oni hopped out to replace the darned tire. His weary pal went to help. The rain was pouring harder; they slipped on the mud and couldn’t do it right. The stranger alighted from his car. Baby remembers her awe: "He was tall, fair-skinned, sloe-eyed; wearing white shirt, white trousers, white shoes." The downpour didn’t seem to bother the stranger. Cheerfully, he picked up the tire and snapped it on it in no time. "It didn’t seem to him that he would soil his all-white attire," Baby recalls.
After quick introductions, Baby jotted down the man’s address and thanked him profusely. "It’s nothing," he waved goodbye.
As they gratefully rode on to Manila, Oni narrated how the stranger had emphasized his full name: "Angel E. Manuel, as in Emmanuel, Christ the Saviour." Baby told them about her Rosary petition for an angel. Then it hit them. "Hmm, Emmanuel, God Is With Us," Oni and Baby hummed their favorite song from Familia prayer meetings.
Oni and Baby have a door-to-door delivery business; their drivers know every nook and cranny of towns along the North Expressway. Twice she sent them off to deliver pastries for Angel E. Manuel, but had to cancel because of a typhoon and a flood. The third time, the driver from the same town returned with the report that there is no such subdivision or street as the stranger had given.