I desperately needed a ticket—specifically, a ticket to my younger brother’s professional boxing match happening that night.  It was a Friday night, and it was a significant event for all the boxers and their families.  It was a nice to do around town as it was showcasing five professional boxers, including one from Russia, and taking place at a large convention center downtown.

I’ve never been particularly fond of boxing; in fact, I’ve never really liked it. But I can see how events like this bring people together, creating excitement as they cheer for one boxer or another, much like those classic fights that used to air for free, like Muhammad Ali vs. Joe Frazier. Many boxers were inspired by Ali’s charisma and memorable phrases like “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” and “I’m so pretty,” not to mention legendary bouts like the “Thrilla in Manila.” But this particular fight involved my younger brother and while I was always anxious before any of his fights this one took on a whole new meaning when just the night before his fight, I dreamt he got hit so hard that he fell like Apollo Creed in the Rocky Movies, and I was downright scared and afraid to tell anyone about the dream.  Needless to say, I was in constant prayer asking God to protect him.

My brother always made it a point to give the family tickets to his fights, even a few days in advance. This time, though, we hadn’t received any, and he was nowhere to be found. No one had seen him for weeks, which was unusual, and this made me even more anxious. We hesitated to reach out, assuming he was deep into training and didn’t want any distractions. On top of that, I was struggling to juggle school full-time, work full-time, and was barely scraping by financially, especially that day. As evening drew closer, I knew that getting a ticket from him wasn’t going to happen so I began looking for and gathering whatever I could to come up with enough for a ticket.

And just in the nick of time, I was able to gather enough money for the purchase and my sister and I hurried to the event, though running just a tad bit late.  We entered the venue, went up two flights of stairs and got in line to pay.  Finally, we reached the front of the line, and I attempted to pay cash to enter the event.  The attendant said, “We don’t take cash, you have to have a ticket.”  I said to her, “Please take this cash, my brother is scheduled to fight, and we think he is going first, and I don’t know if he is boxing now or if he already fought and I’m extremely anxious about this fight.  And she said again, “We don’t take cash, you have to have a ticket.”  I thought to myself it’s not even a sold-out event and probably has sold just over fifty percent capacity, leaving plenty of room to bend the rules slightly, and she could take cash if she wanted. A thought then came across my mind and said, don’t waste time trying to plead with her, just go and get the ticket. 

My sister and I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t accept cash, so we had no choice but to head back down two flights of stairs and navigate a long walkway lined with specialty shops, complete with a few twists and turns. And after what felt like an eternity, we finally approached the ticket area. There were a few people ahead of us, but finally it was our turn.  It was music to my ears when the attendant called out, “Next.” Just as we took our first step toward the counter, the back door suddenly swung open, and in rushed the coach’s son along with another boxer. He saw us immediately and asked, “What are you doing down here? The fight’s this way!”

I explained we needed tickets, and he replied, “Your brother didn’t give you any?” When I mentioned we hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks, he reached into his pocket and handed me a bundle of tickets before taking off running.

“Wait!” I called out. “You gave me four tickets, and I only need two!” He turned around while continuing to run backwards, and said, “That’s okay, keep ‘em!” And he turned back around and took off again.  My sister and I looked at each other and laughed and were overjoyed with our free tickets! I gave her one and had two left to spare! This very timely interaction with the coach’s son, I believe, is what set off events where the ones involved would be morally tested by an angelic encounter, beginning with the ticket attendant.

We took off too, walking as fast as we could back up to the venue with tickets in hand!  However, as we got back in line, I noticed an old man had entered the line just in front of us and he looked like he had just stepped out of the 1930’s.  He was dressed very well from head to toe, wearing a fedora hat, trench coat and dress shoes.  He was bent over on a cane and walking very slowly, taking inch steps.  I said to my sister, “Oh no, what in the world is he doing here, this can’t be happening.”  But something said just be patient and kind, so that’s what I did. 

When the old man finally reached the attendant, he tried to pay her with cash to which she replied, “We don’t take cash; you need a ticket.” That’s when I stepped out of line to make sure she noticed me and said, with the neck roll in dramatic fashion, “Now I know you’re not going to make him go all the way down to the ticket booth to buy a ticket!” She glanced at him, and I could see she didn’t want to say what came next, but she said it anyway: “The rules are the rules.”

I was overcome with compassion for this man who had somehow made it to the event alone. The thought of him having to navigate the stairs and winding halls while taking inch steps was heartbreaking. Then, a sudden thought came across my mind that said: “Don’t forget you have those tickets.” It was a jarring reminder, like a physical jolt and an instant realization of how quickly we forget the kindness shown to us by others. Grateful for the reminder and chance to help, I leaned down closer to him and said, “Excuse me, Sir, would you like a ticket?”

With a big sort of shy smile, he looked up at me, then down towards the floor, and up again as if he were thinking about it, and said, “Sure, thank you.”  I gave him the ticket and he handed it to the attendant.  It felt strangely awkward when I handed him the ticket because all eyes were on us. However, to relieve the awkwardness and knowing I still had another ticket to spare, I turned towards the line and announced, “Does anyone else need a ticket?”  No one said anything.  Meanwhile, the attendant examined the ticket the old man had just handed her, holding it up to the light to check if it was legit. After all, she had just witnessed us trying to pay with cash, and suddenly we had tickets to give away—it all seemed very suspicious. The old man chimed in, “They’re good.”  I looked him up and down, taking a step back, thinking, “Hmm, you got a little gangsta in you; how do you know THEY’RE good?”  But of course, they were good; they had just been given to us by the coach’s son. And my sister and I were relieved to finally hand her our tickets, and we headed into the event.

At last, we were finally inside and were eager to find our seats and the order of boxing matches, but the old man was waiting for us just inside the door.  As soon as he saw us, he said to me, “Miss, can I pay you for the ticket?”  I responded, “No thanks,” and continued walking, stopping briefly to look around for other family members. There were thoughts coming across my mind that said, “You can get money from that old man, he looks like he is loaded.”   Then the old man stopped us again, and said, as he was reaching in his pocket, “Here, let me pay you for the ticket.”  I responded, “No thank you, I wouldn’t know what to charge you,” but enjoy the show.”  We walked a little further, and there were thoughts going across my mind that said you can charge him $50, $100, and he wouldn’t know the difference. 

The old man approached us once more and with a big smile, he glanced at my sister, who was distractedly looking around the venue. “Let me pay you for the ticket?” he said to me yet again. But by this point, I was completely frustrated with his persistence. And with everything in me, I tried my best to stay polite, but my tone came out somewhat annoyed as I said, “Sir, I can’t really charge you for the ticket because I didn’t pay anything for it.”

That’s when he lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose, and looked me straight in the eyes, still smiling, and said, “Very Good!” emphasizing it as if I had aced some sort of moral test. I looked at my sister and gave her the look like, “What is up with this guy,” but said to her, “maybe we should help him to his seat.  I turned back toward the old man, and was about to say, “Sir,” but the only thing that came out was “Ss…” because the old man had vanished–he was nowhere to be seen, in a wide open and clear area because most people had taken their seats.  “No way! I exclaimed out loud. “Where did he go?”   I couldn’t believe that the old man who was taking inch steps is nowhere to be seen!  We looked for a while and gave up, but secretly I continued searching for him throughout the night.

Reflecting on that evening, it’s clear that several of us faced moral tests. The ticket attendant who declined our cash offer, despite our predicament, and who later was willing to decline an old man entry into an event that he was also offering cash payment to enter, may have missed an opportunity to show hospitality to an angel. Hebrews 13: 2 says, “ and do not forget to offer hospitality to strangers, for by doing this some have entertained angels without knowing it.” I believe the old man may have been an angel sent by God to put our moral conscience to the test. I think I passed.

Me exercising patience even though I was really afraid for my brother and wanted to be certain of his well-being turned out to be a real virtue and proved true that night.  The coach’s son bursting through the back door right next to the ticket counter at the precise moment that we were about to purchase tickets we really couldn’t afford, is beyond coincidence.  And for him to give me more than enough tickets, I believe, was divine intervention, and he aced the moral test.

There were also negative forces at play, trying to get me to take advantage of an old man financially, because I really needed money.  I’m glad the spirit of truth prevailed and did not allow me to fall prey to darts from the devil.  As the Bible says in 1 Timothy 6:10: “the love of money is the root of all evil.”  Everyone knows that scripture, but the lesser-known moral test took me a minute to figure out, but I finally got it.  Jesus said in Matthew 10:8, “…Whatever you receive without payment, you should give without payment.” Some scriptures say, “As you have freely received, freely give.” However, the meaning is the same. And this, no doubt, was the moral test of the ticket exchange.

I was determined though that night to find the old man.  At one point, I looked up into the nosebleed section and saw one man who looked to be wearing a fedora hat and wearing a trench coat.  I thought, that can’t be him, that’s impossible, but I was reminded that with God all things are possible.  Perhaps he was also there to protect my younger brother who made it home safely that night.