“Don’t be afraid of him, son. He has been sent from the Presence of God Almighty.”

As a little boy, I used to sell books for my dad in the healing campaigns. I wore a carpenter’s nail apron around my waist, and I would walk up and down the aisles before the service, offering for sale the three booklets we had at that time, which were I Was Not Disobedient To The Heavenly Vision, Jesus Christ, The Same Yesterday, Today, and Forever, and Divine Healing In The Branham Campaigns. The price was three for 25 cents, and I remember how I concentrated on making the correct change for people, and then balancing my little record book every night. I thought I had the most important job in the world and I was proud to think that Dad trusted me to do it. Usually, one of my uncles would travel with us also, to give out the prayer cards each night and to help Dad in and out of the service. I especially liked it when Donnie, Dad’s youngest brother, who was only eight years older than me, came along. We were both just kids, and we had a lot in common and shared some great times together.

It was never Dad’s way to stay in high priced accommodations when we traveled, but that was especially the case in those early years of ministry when our choice of lodging would best be described as being adequate, but humble. Dad and I spent many, many nights together in the cramped quarters of run-of-themill hotels, where the bathroom was not in your room, but at the end of the hall. They were uneventful times, for the most part, with one remarkable exception.

We were in Vandalia, Illinois, and I was about 11 years old. Dad, Donnie, and I were all sleeping on one bed in a tiny room, and, being the youngest, I was in the middle. It was very early in the morning, before dawn, when Dad nudged me awake. He was holding a pillow up next to my face, and when he was sure I was fully awake, he began to speak to me in a low voice. “Billy,” he said, “you know the Angel that Daddy talks about?” I had heard him tell, many times, about the Angel that stood beside him, so I said, ‘Yes, sir.”

“He’s here,” he continued, “he visited me tonight and told me things about the coming meetings. He is still in this room, right now, and I asked him if I could let you and Donnie see him. The Angel told me, ‘You can wake up your son, Billy.’ “He nodded his head towards a corner of the room where I knew there was a wash basin and mirror, but that spot was now being blocked from my view by the pillow. Dad said, “He’s right over there by the wash basin. Would you like to see him?”

Again I said, “Yes, sir.” From the first time I’d heard Dad speak about the Angel that came and spoke with him and stood beside him, I had wondered what an angel looked like. I don’t know what I expected to see in our room that night – an airborne being with wings, I suppose. But that is not the way it was.

Dad lowered the pillow so that I could see, and I turned my head towards the corner of the room. There stood a man dressed in white. Every detail of his face and clothing was visible to me, and in my mind’s eye I can see those details as clearly today as I did then. He was a large man, weighing perhaps 200 pounds (much larger than my dad). His hair was very dark and hung to his shoulders, touching the robe-like garment he wore, but he had no beard. His complexion was smooth and unlined, and the color of his skin was somewhat dark, nearly olive-toned. Later in my life, I recognized his features and coloring as being characteristic of the Armenian people. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was looking directly at us there on the bed. There was a kind and gentle look in his eyes that I cannot describe, and although he did not say a word to me, I sensed a communication between the Angel and Dad. I began to tremble. Dad put his arm around me and said, “Don’t be afraid of him, son. He has been sent from the Presence of God Almighty.” With my dad’s arm around me, I continued to look directly at the Angel, and after a few minutes the man’s form began to blend into a pillar of light. The light became a mist which then vanished from the room. In its place hung a rainbow. 

When Donnie awoke a short time later, the rainbow was still visible in the room, and together we watched the colorful beam of light as it hung there in our room for more than two hours.

When I grew older, I asked my dad, “How come the Angel of the Lord let me see him that night?” I’ll never forget his reply. He said, “Because God called you to work with me, son, and He wanted to make Himself manifested to you.” And I know that from that night in Vandalia on, no matter where we were, I never had to wait to hear Dad say, “He’s here.” I could always tell when that Presence was near.

 Quoted from 'The Angel by Billy Paul Branham' in Only Believe Magazine