Unintentional Angels is a poem composed during one of many long EMU stays for my daughter Gabi, paired with one of her prints of an Osprey (who, in Native American lore, is a messenger from the heavens). It’s a reflection on the many times that someone appeared at the right place, right time to lend a hand – a woman who grew up with a sister with epilepsy and saw me managing Gabi’s poorly timed seizure in Penn Station at rush hour and sat down with us to help, a TSA agent who knew exactly what I meant when I told him Gab was about to have a seizure. Hence, I needed to pull her to the side of the screening area immediately. The guy playing the piano in Mount Sinai’s hospital lobby who knew I loved Beatles songs and started playing ‘Let it Be’ when he saw me go by, the waitress who calmly picked up the table knocked over during a particularly aggressive seizure. The list goes on, but we’re always so grateful that often people seem to arrive right when we need a hand, and instead of stopping to stare or immediately calling 911, they simply step in to help. Teresa Prego, mother of Gabi Prego.