I’ve been debating whether to tell this story for months. I knew that since my blogs are available for public consumption, there would also be public scrutiny. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened.
Anyone who knows me knows how bad my anxiety is. I have very few places where I’m not in fight-or-flight mode; one of those places is concerts. However, the days leading up to the concert are a different story.
I had worked myself up before attending a show on Megan Moroney’s The Cloud 9 tour. I had pit seats, and though I had seen concerts from the pit before, I was still anxious. I was also dealing with some difficult side effects from a new medication.
Once at the show, in the pit, I was praying unceasingly for protection and that I would be able to just enjoy the show without anxiety ruining this concert I had waited months for.
I noticed these ladies, probably in their 50s, standing behind me. They were not dressed in Megan Moroney concert attire, which, for those who don’t know, is pink dresses, white boots, and anything sparkly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I realized they were drinking water. Usually that’s not a questionable drink of choice, but at every country music concert I go to, women in their 50s who are in attendance are getting drunk or already wasted.
I chalked it up to nothing out of the ordinary, even though these two things didn’t draw subtlety. I was minding my own business when I felt a tap on my shoulder, and it was one of the ladies behind me.
She asked me if I was here alone, and before I could answer, she said, “My friend and I are going to stand behind you; if you need anything, let us know.”
I thanked them and turned back around. I was sort of in shock from their kindness, as it was weird that they chose to talk to me and randomly tell me that.
A few minutes later, the same lady tapped me again. She had noticed the sign I brought to the concert in an effort to get Megan’s boots that she gives to a fan each night at the end of her show. The sign read: Birthday Wish? Your Boots!
The lady smiled, “It’s your birthday? Happy Birthday!” and she gave me a small pink booklet. I told her no, but she insisted that I take it.
It was The Cloud 9 Tour Yearbook that was being exclusively sold at the merch booths at the shows. I had already bought my merch, but for some reason this lady who I had just met wanted me to have her merch.
Throughout the show, I would casually glance in their direction; they didn’t talk to anyone else in the audience that night. Security was talking to people in the pit and never once talked to them.
When the show ended, I took out my phone to get my picture taken in front of the stage when the same lady walked up to me again. She gave me a hug and said, “I hope you had a great birthday and that you enjoyed yourself!”
From that moment until I got my picture taken probably took no longer than two minutes. When I looked around to see if they were still there. They were gone, and there was no way they could have gotten out of the pit before I did because of the groups of people; we were packed in there like sardines.
I don’t know if these ladies were actually angels.
Even if they weren’t spiritual angels, they were definitely such compassionate women.
I don’t know why they did what they did, but I believe nothing happens coincidentally. Especially moments like this.
Maybe it’s faith in humanity being restored, or maybe angels are everywhere, even at Megan Moroney concerts.
But if the algorithm is kind and, by any chance, they see this, thank you. You made my entire night.
