Charlie Shissler would blush and stammer if I ever called him an angel, but in an important way he is. Charlie is a husband and father and beef farmer and is also my mechanic. Like so many people up here in the country, he works hard, and much of the time, without complaint.

Charlie is very loving to his family, and very nice to the people who bring him their cars to take care of.

I’ve told Charlie I love my Toyota SUV and he is always looking for ways to keep it in good shape, he says I can drive it for many years. My car is important to me, Maria and I have driven it all over the country and I want to keep it for as long as I can. Charlie understands that I am a little crazy, he isn’t judgemental.

I am not one of those people who is perennially angry or pessimistic about our country.

And people like Charlie are one of the reasons that is so. I look forward to dropping my car off, Charlie and I first connected when I told him I thought of Maria’s old Yaris as a “toilet bowl,” I was thrilled when it died and I didn’t have to watch her drive off in blizzards on that lawn mower on four tires. I know it’s ecologically sound and thrifty, and reliable, I just didn’t like her  driving it around in the winter.

Not that it is my business, as she so often pointed out.

Charlie explains my car to me very carefully and thoughtfully, he is as conscientious as I am ignorant. I think he can’t quite fathom my inability to grasp mechanical concepts, but I don’t want to hide behind my Dyslexia. When I needed to replace my windshield washer fluid last week, I did it.

I write about Charlie not only because I like him, but mostly because I appreciate him. People like Charlie make our world go round, and they are rarely acknowledged. I think of them in my own odd way as angels.

I am always on the lookout for angels, and I always come across them when I am looking for them. They are important.

The term angels is so overused we just don’t think about it. But this is a good time to pay attention to them because I believe it is the angels that will bring us and our world back to a better place. I believe that more and more each day.

Angels will get our world back on track, that’s what they do. I think of the Charlies if the world as the real America, not the one we see on the news.  Charlie works very hard, he cares for his family, is honest with the people who are his customers, he is proud of his work. He works in cold and grease and noise. He makes it possible for us to move from one place to another.

Is there anything more American than that?

Charlie would never in a million years think of himself as an angel. He’ll think I’m ever crazier than he already thought I was.

He is courteous and honest quite naturally, I don’t think he thinks much about it, I think it’s just the way he is.

We poke each other all the time, Charlie has a keen sense of humor, he smiles at my utter ignorance of all things mechanical (I haven’t told him I’m Dyslexic) and I ribbed him this morning about my running out of windshield wiper fluid.

He paused and said he wondered if it wasn’t leaking, he is usually scrupulous about running through his checklist when he services the car. I bet it was leaking, but I’ll still give him stuff about it.

Generally, an angel is believed to be a supernatural being found in many religions and mythologies. In most Western faiths, angels are often depicted as being benevolent  celestial beings who act as intermediaries between God or Heaven and humanity.

Angels are believed to protect and guide human beings, and to carry out the good works of benevolent Gods.

Angels get expelled from heaven when they misbehave – they are human in that way – and they are called fallen angels.

I believe I had an angel or two watching over me, kicking my ass, urging me to let go of things, to move forward, to shed fear and uncertainty, to be discerning.

My idea of angels has evolved.

I don’t think Charlie is super human or super natural, I think he is very human.

In the past few years, in my writing, blog and work with the refugees and the elderly, I have had a window seat on good people. They are all over the place, they are eager to do good, they are grateful for the chance to do good. I hear from them every day of my life, often through the crumpled $5 and $10 bills they stuff in envelopes and mail to me to help the vulnerable and needy.

People like that – and people like Charlie – are powerful spirits in their own right, they remind me that good is very much alive. You will never see Charlie on the news, or the Army Of Good, or the many millions of these good people who live their lives in dignity and compassion.

Good is a faith all of its own. To them, the greatest fulfillment lies in giving ourselves to others. Charlie is no saint, but in his work, he is literally giving himself to others so that they can live their lives. It’s not just a job.

The Charlies of the world are not on their news, they are not considered important. What is considered important are the violence, cruelty,  rantings and posturing of self-absorbed, disturbed, greedy and arrogant people who seem to have forgotten what it means to take people’s paychecks, dignity and peace of mind away without reason or apology.