Third Chapter of the Strawberry
The Story of Jesse
Chapter 3: A Strawberry Thrown My Way
The Story of Jesse- By Katherine Aguilar
The development of faith and family is a steady process, and many times we feel that our
Prayers are being answered, or if angels are real. Are our prayers answered at different times throughout our prayers? Just as a strawberry seed has to be planted at the right time to determine what harvest will be produced.
1
Not all the time will you see a difference in your prayers, or you feel there is no answer at all. As in a harvest. Many growers feel a harvest is slow, not producing, or producing abundantly. It is the same with prayers. They produce in many ways. Not all times will be times you think they are big. Even the smallest answer to your prayers will have a lasting impact. As with the smallest seed of a crop, it produces the most. Many think it is the weakest seed and doesn’t have a chance.
2
Whether you are praying for yourself or others, you may ask yourself if you are praying correctly. Many times God will send angels throughout your life to assist in your daily challenges or to reassure you that He is listening.
He could be sending you an overflow of love and answering your prayer. Many times when He does give a blessing, people tend to forget He has given them a blessing or send them an angel to be with them through their troubles.
While forgetting to say "thank you" to God for all the blessings He has been giving them during their lives. The "Give me attitude when they pray for others' or changes in our lives is very present in how prayer is said now.. To be expected all the time, and when they do receive the blessing. They are happy! Then afterwards, not acknowledging or giving thanks. Meanwhile, we should be grateful. When asking for blessings and healing. We will get them in different ways. Healing of heart and spirit or healing of body. Which is greater to you?
In the Scripture Luke 17:11-19, only one leper returned to tell Jesus "thank you" for being healed. We need to be like that leopard and say thank you for being healed and grateful. Until you breathe your last breath.
3
This morning, a strawberry of love was thrown my way. Reminding me there still is love in this world, and it is beautiful to see it unfold in front of me.
This particular morning. I met an angel, and they made me smile and laugh. Reminding me not to take life so seriously. To relax and enjoy the beauty of what God has given us. To stop and breathe and be grateful. This was the reminder I received this particular morning.
The birds were singing early in the morning as the sun was beaming through the clouds. Part of me wants to roll over and go back to bed. In prevailing in mind and spirit. I decided to get up and go for a morning jog. Jogging allows me to clear my mind and purge my thoughts of the week's happenings or my plans for the next week. Once I go jogging, my brain starts to unload all the thoughts of the week. When I have a lot of thoughts, I forget how many laps around the park I jog until every worry or thought is cleared from my mind.
This morning, as I was starting my cool-down lap around the park. I saw an older Hispanic man and a young teen with special needs. The young teen was riding a red and white bicycle. The older man looked like he was the grandfather of the young teen. He was helping the young teenager ride by pushing the bicycle as he peddled. The young teen and the grandpa looked serious and as if this had been their normal routine every morning as exercise for them both. As I passed, I said “ Good morning” and continued walking. Passing them along the park trail. Internally, I felt like I needed to stop and say something to the older man.
I saw them coming up the running path. As they were passing me up the trail, I told the man, “You know the teen was an angel in your family”. The older man smiled, and they continued to walk on. I sped up my cool-down walk passing them, and was almost finished. When I heard in the distance the voice of the grandpa. I looked back and saw the young teen running like Forest Gump with such enthusiasm running on the path, leaving his grandpa behind. I could hear the older man yelling, “ Jesse, slow down, slow down.” Jesse was running with a big smile; he looked like he was running in a marathon. The grandpa had to pick up the pace to catch up with Jesse. The grandpa was worried Jesse would get off the path. I said to him, “Don’t worry about Jesse. He is going to be just fine. He just wants grandpa to speed it up.” I laughed, and so did the grandpa. He continued to speed it up to catch up with Jesse while pushing the bicycle. He said, “I don’t know what happened. Jesse just took off running on the path”. The grandpa finally caught up to Jesse. He suggested, “ Jesse, why don’t you get back on the bicycle?”. Telling Jesse he should rest from the running he did. Jesse did get on the bicycle. He didn’t slow down, and he was pedaling fast. There goes poor grandpa, having to jog instead of walking to keep up with Jesse. Jesse was having a great time. I couldn’t help but laugh. Grandpa was getting a good workout this morning. My cool down was finished. I bid them a good day. I enjoyed watching the interaction between my grandson and his grandpa.
I had a smile on my face, wrapping up my workout. It was nice meeting these people.
I have never met these people in my life. This was the first time I saw them. Still, they left a beautiful impression on me. Of love, a grandpa picking up the pace to keep up with Jesse, his grandson. The grandpa was happy to do it. I believe Jesse looked so angelic this morning. The grandpa was tired from his jogging but excited. Jesse is reaching a new level of development. He had not expected him to do so.
I hadn't had a particular prayer this morning, so it was a nice surprise to see Jesse, who I believe was an angel. He made me smile and caused me to laugh. At times, life can be so serious. We get so caught up in the everyday that we forget to smile and laugh at the simplest of things. Seeing Jesse running so happily around the park was refreshing. A little interaction could be so rewarding. It was rewarding to me. Compare this to a Strawberry of faith being thrown at me. The love this grandpa has for his grandson. The look of wonder and happiness the grandpa had for his grandson.
Angels appear in people's lives, and we don’t even realize it.
About the Creator
Katherine Aguilar
I am taking this moment in my life to purge my thoughts. I have learned throughout my lifetime to share with other generations.
I am from Texas. Starting a new season in my life with writing.
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For the longest time, I believed my life was simply paused. Not broken. Not finished. Just waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the right person. Waiting for something—anything—to arrive and change everything. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for, but I was sure it would come. People always said things like “It’ll get better” or “Your time will come”, and I clung to those words like promises written in invisible ink. I believed that if I endured long enough, life would eventually reward my patience. So I waited. I waited quietly, because I didn’t want to be a burden. I waited politely, because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. I waited silently, because I didn’t even know how to explain what was wrong. From the outside, my life looked acceptable. I functioned. I showed up. I smiled when it was expected of me. I laughed at jokes that didn’t reach my heart. I answered “I’m fine” so often that it started to feel like muscle memory. But inside, something was eroding. Every day felt heavier than the last, like I was carrying a weight that kept growing while no one was looking. I woke up tired, went to bed tired, and spent the hours in between pretending I wasn’t. There was a quiet exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch—a tiredness that came from constantly hoping for relief that never arrived. I thought suffering had to be loud to be real. I thought pain needed witnesses to matter. Mine had neither. There was no dramatic breaking point, no single moment when everything fell apart. Instead, it unraveled slowly. Almost gently. Like a thread pulled so gradually you don’t notice the fabric weakening until it’s too late. I kept telling myself, Just hold on a little longer. Surely someone would notice. Surely someone would step in. Surely life wouldn’t let me keep feeling this way forever. But life did. And then one day—an ordinary day that didn’t announce its importance—I realized something that changed everything. Nobody was coming. That realization didn’t arrive with clarity or relief. It arrived like grief. Heavy. Sharp. Unforgiving. I remember sitting alone, staring at nothing in particular, and feeling the truth settle into my bones. There would be no rescue. No sudden turning point delivered by someone else’s effort. No moment where everything magically aligned and lifted me out of my own life. It wasn’t that people didn’t care. It was that everyone was busy surviving their own storms. I had been waiting for someone to save me from a life that only I was living. And for a while, that realization shattered me. I felt abandoned by the world, betrayed by hope itself. I questioned every prayer I had whispered into the dark, every moment I had chosen patience over action. I wondered if I had misunderstood life completely—if the promises I believed in were never meant for people like me. I mourned the version of myself who thought endurance alone was enough. There is a special kind of loneliness that comes from realizing your pain is invisible. That no matter how heavy it feels to you, the world keeps moving at the same pace. Bills still need to be paid. Responsibilities still demand attention. Smiles are still expected. So I kept going. But something inside me had cracked open. Once you see the truth, you can’t unsee it. And the truth was this: waiting had become my hiding place. Hope, without action, had become an excuse to stay small. I had been standing still, convincing myself that stillness was strength. It wasn’t. Saving myself didn’t begin with confidence. It began with fear. Fear of staying the same. Fear of waking up ten years later in the same emotional place. Fear of realizing that I had wasted my own life waiting for permission to live it. I didn’t suddenly become brave. I became tired of being helpless. The first steps were almost embarrassing in their simplicity. There was nothing poetic about them. 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But both are part of the same road. There were days I missed the comfort of waiting. Waiting meant responsibility belonged to someone else. Taking control meant accepting that my life—every imperfect part of it—was in my hands. That was terrifying. But it was also freeing. As I slowly rebuilt myself, I noticed something else. Not everyone wanted to walk with me into this new version of myself. Some people preferred the me who needed saving. The me who was easier to control, easier to dismiss, easier to define. Outgrowing people hurts. Outgrowing places hurts. Outgrowing old versions of yourself hurts most of all. But staying the same hurts longer. I lost connections I thought were permanent. I stepped away from spaces that no longer fit who I was becoming. Loneliness returned—but this time, it was different. This loneliness felt honest. It didn’t come from abandonment; it came from alignment. 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