An Angel Named Zabar by Bob Miller is a collection of short stories about a guardian angel named
Zabar. A celestial Batman if you will. While compassionate, it's not healthy to come between Zabar and
his work.
My Friend & Guardian Angel Zabar...
This is the first story in the series. It takes place on Brown's Mountain where Bob Miller lived as a small
boy with his parents. On a hiking trip to the Brown family's old abandon homestead that was nothing
more than a dilapidated house, a few orchard trees, and a hand-dug well that lay dangerously open,
Bob and Zabar met for the first time.
Windy Ridge...
"Mister, if you talked to someone standing knee-deep in wildflowers on that mountain this morning, that
person was an angel."
Yellow Cab...
"You’re telling me how to schedule my damn reservation. I can’t believe this." Dave’s indignation trailed
off into silence, but soon reasserted itself. "You know, pal, given everything that’s happened since 9/11,
I would think that all you camel jockeys would be careful about how you talk to Americans."
The "camel jockey" looked neither impressed nor offended.
Waterloo…
“Pam, walk through this door with your head held high. I won’t go with you, but on the other side of the
door is the love of a mother and a family long distant. Go through that door knowing that you are
cherished by the King of Kings.”
Molino and Associates...
"Tony, did I say something wrong?"
"No sir, but I was under the impression that it would be just the three of us in here."
"Well, unless I have a ghost. . . ." Molino’s jaw dropped. A man wearing a light linen shirt and pants,
sandals and no socks, a man with well-manicured toenails, was standing at the fireplace. He smiled
at Molino – through Molino, it seemed – and looked perfectly at home.
Trueque…
“All right, enough already, Mr. Elephant. We’ve gone over this a hundred times. Humans, not the
committee, named Old Fuzz Face the ‘King of the Beasts.’ No one here doubts your ability to, as you so
eloquently put it, 'jerk a knot in his tail,' but we’ll have to decide what to do about naming a new ‘king’
some other time.” Owl clicked his beak wide and spat out some eggshells. Then: “Should known better
than to eat turtle eggs. Give me indigestion every time.”
Pride of Ownership...
"Mr. Zabar," Kelly started, "I don’t know what to say. I feel empty, ashamed. I feel an awful loss."
"Captain, you just witnessed a young man, of his own free will, choosing to accept the One whose
name only moments earlier he had taken in vain. He was faced with two choices, and he chose the
King of Kings."
Optimistic to a Fault…
Alone on the couch that she had picked out with Abraham, Betty wept and thought disjointed thoughts
governed by grief. She was pregnant. She was a widow. A pregnant widow. Now what would she do?
"God," she sobbed to the empty room, "do you have any suggestions? Abraham? What should I do?"
A Deer Named Titan...
"Do you enjoy killing, Scarpattie?" Zabar said. "Does it benefit anyone to take a life in this way?"
Zabar stepped over to the all-terrain vehicle and stroked Titan's head. "Can you honestly say that a
picture of Titan – this animal full of life – would not have served your office wall better than this lifeless
head?"
Today and Beyond...
“The secrets of the rich and famous are not secrets. The question has never been, ‘Could one become
rich and famous?’ The question is, ‘Are you a wisher or a doer?" Zabar added, “And as to the age old
question, ‘Is there life after death?’ I am permitted only to say that there are people not of this world.
Only God knows if, when, and what form one will take after earth.”
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Zabar. A celestial Batman if you will. While compassionate, it's not healthy to come between Zabar and
his work.
My Friend & Guardian Angel Zabar...
This is the first story in the series. It takes place on Brown's Mountain where Bob Miller lived as a small
boy with his parents. On a hiking trip to the Brown family's old abandon homestead that was nothing
more than a dilapidated house, a few orchard trees, and a hand-dug well that lay dangerously open,
Bob and Zabar met for the first time.
Windy Ridge...
"Mister, if you talked to someone standing knee-deep in wildflowers on that mountain this morning, that
person was an angel."
Yellow Cab...
"You’re telling me how to schedule my damn reservation. I can’t believe this." Dave’s indignation trailed
off into silence, but soon reasserted itself. "You know, pal, given everything that’s happened since 9/11,
I would think that all you camel jockeys would be careful about how you talk to Americans."
The "camel jockey" looked neither impressed nor offended.
Waterloo…
“Pam, walk through this door with your head held high. I won’t go with you, but on the other side of the
door is the love of a mother and a family long distant. Go through that door knowing that you are
cherished by the King of Kings.”
Molino and Associates...
"Tony, did I say something wrong?"
"No sir, but I was under the impression that it would be just the three of us in here."
"Well, unless I have a ghost. . . ." Molino’s jaw dropped. A man wearing a light linen shirt and pants,
sandals and no socks, a man with well-manicured toenails, was standing at the fireplace. He smiled
at Molino – through Molino, it seemed – and looked perfectly at home.
Trueque…
“All right, enough already, Mr. Elephant. We’ve gone over this a hundred times. Humans, not the
committee, named Old Fuzz Face the ‘King of the Beasts.’ No one here doubts your ability to, as you so
eloquently put it, 'jerk a knot in his tail,' but we’ll have to decide what to do about naming a new ‘king’
some other time.” Owl clicked his beak wide and spat out some eggshells. Then: “Should known better
than to eat turtle eggs. Give me indigestion every time.”
Pride of Ownership...
"Mr. Zabar," Kelly started, "I don’t know what to say. I feel empty, ashamed. I feel an awful loss."
"Captain, you just witnessed a young man, of his own free will, choosing to accept the One whose
name only moments earlier he had taken in vain. He was faced with two choices, and he chose the
King of Kings."
Optimistic to a Fault…
Alone on the couch that she had picked out with Abraham, Betty wept and thought disjointed thoughts
governed by grief. She was pregnant. She was a widow. A pregnant widow. Now what would she do?
"God," she sobbed to the empty room, "do you have any suggestions? Abraham? What should I do?"
A Deer Named Titan...
"Do you enjoy killing, Scarpattie?" Zabar said. "Does it benefit anyone to take a life in this way?"
Zabar stepped over to the all-terrain vehicle and stroked Titan's head. "Can you honestly say that a
picture of Titan – this animal full of life – would not have served your office wall better than this lifeless
head?"
Today and Beyond...
“The secrets of the rich and famous are not secrets. The question has never been, ‘Could one become
rich and famous?’ The question is, ‘Are you a wisher or a doer?" Zabar added, “And as to the age old
question, ‘Is there life after death?’ I am permitted only to say that there are people not of this world.
Only God knows if, when, and what form one will take after earth.”
Back To Top
| An Angel Named Zabar - A Spiritual book by Bob Miller |
From Wheatmark books: An Angel Named Zabar by Bob Miller is a spiritual
book that's an inspirational and fun read.. It's the perfect book to throw in
your overnight case when traveling, for that rainy evening, or sleepless night.
You will watch and listen as guardian angel Zabar confronts people from all
walks of life, who for whatever reason have earned his attention and
services.
It is not the intended purpose of this writing to exalt or criticize An Angel
Named Zabar by Bob Miller. While it’s apparent that Mr. Miller is not as
enthusiastic about extensive research as Samuel Langhorne Clemens was
nor does he burn the candle at both ends in search of humor as Will Rogers
did, his choice of words are a unique blend of these two icons' style.
book that's an inspirational and fun read.. It's the perfect book to throw in
your overnight case when traveling, for that rainy evening, or sleepless night.
You will watch and listen as guardian angel Zabar confronts people from all
walks of life, who for whatever reason have earned his attention and
services.
It is not the intended purpose of this writing to exalt or criticize An Angel
Named Zabar by Bob Miller. While it’s apparent that Mr. Miller is not as
enthusiastic about extensive research as Samuel Langhorne Clemens was
nor does he burn the candle at both ends in search of humor as Will Rogers
did, his choice of words are a unique blend of these two icons' style.
Hello! I'm Bob Miller. Hardly a day goes by that someone doesn’t write to say that they do not believe in
angels. Why they go to this trouble beats me. I don’t ask people to believe in angels or anything else. I
have simply recorded my travels with my friend and guardian angel, Zabar. For what it’s worth, angels
are mentioned the in the Old and New Testaments 299 times in 280 verses. So I can only assume that
those who don’t believe in angels don’t believe the Bible either; and that, too, is okay with me. I will
admit that I find people somewhat amusing who tell me in one breath that they’re unhappy, broke, and
their lives aren’t worth living, and then turn around and make fun of my beliefs and lifestyle.
angels. Why they go to this trouble beats me. I don’t ask people to believe in angels or anything else. I
have simply recorded my travels with my friend and guardian angel, Zabar. For what it’s worth, angels
are mentioned the in the Old and New Testaments 299 times in 280 verses. So I can only assume that
those who don’t believe in angels don’t believe the Bible either; and that, too, is okay with me. I will
admit that I find people somewhat amusing who tell me in one breath that they’re unhappy, broke, and
their lives aren’t worth living, and then turn around and make fun of my beliefs and lifestyle.
An Angel Named Zabar
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