Diary of an Angel
Authors: Michael M. Farnsworth
Diary of an Angel
a novel
Michael M
. Farnsworth
books, please visit
www.michaelmfarnsworth.com
Copyright © 2013 Michael M. Farnsworth
All rights reserved
. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written consent from the author.
First printed in paperbound 2013
ISBN 978-0615866017
Cover design by Clarissa Yeo
Image of house and hands © Robert Kneschke/
Shutterstock Images
Heaven
H
eaven smells so much sweeter than anything you could ever imagine on earth. I shall never forget my first draft of that sweet air. It poured into me like a mountain stream, filling me with its invigorating lifeblood, igniting every particle of my being, enlivening my senses, so that I felt as though I were awake and alive for the very first time. Nothing before that moment seemed real—just a dream.
It was not a dream, though. I had died.
How long ago that seemed! Now I sat on a grassy hillside, as the morning rays spread out over the countryside, scarcely able to remember my life on earth. So much had changed since then. Everything had changed.
Could this be a dream?
No. It was much too real. Besides, never in my wildest dreams would I ever imagine what I was about to do.
I rose to my feet as a gush of morning breeze caressed my face. I curled my toes in the cozy grass. Stretching my arms out wide, I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. I imagined my parents, my sister, my friends and neighbors. How would they respond if they knew? They had known me on earth, had observed my many faults. Could they believe it possible? I had been a normal girl, fresh out of college, trying to find my place in the world. I’m sure no one ever saw me, queen of the ordinary, and thought,
one day she’ll make a great—
Oh, but it didn’t matter. Today was real, whether anyone on earth would believe it or not. The thought made me want to explode with joy.
I opened my eyes. In a full sprint, I set out down the sloping hill which lay before me. Swifter than the wind, I flew up and down the undulating hillside, crossing ponds and lakes, leaping over rivers, faster and faster. Straight up a cloud-piercing mountain I ran, halting only when I had reached its peak. From that height, I felt as if I could reach up and touch the stars shimmering in space. Below, through scattered clouds, the boundless terrain of heaven spread out before me like a quilt of emerald and gold. My body swayed to the rhythm of the wind.
Then I jumped straight out from the cliff, letting the wind catch me up like a feather. It carried me along in its gentle current. Through the clouds it bore me, weaving its way along an unmarked path. Gradually, the wind brought me lower, until it finally set me down upon the soft ground. I looked up. Atop the hill which rose before me, rested a majestic white-stoned building. The Academy of Angels.
A small group of brightly dressed graduates entered the Academy just ahead of me. I followed behind them. They talked excitedly amongst themselves about the graduation ceremony. We soon met with others who were likewise graduating that day. Into the Academy’s vast auditorium we poured. I smiled when I entered. Filled nearly to capacity with soon-to-be angels, the great hall shimmered like a snow-covered hillside when touched by the light of dawn. Everywhere, delicate voices could be heard in animated conversation with dear friends and family. At the front of the assembly stood a stage on which the illustrious faculty of the Academy sat in meditative silence. They glowed brilliantly—more radiant than the entire assembly.
I scanned the auditorium for a place to sit. A few rows down, a hand was waving above the crowd. My smile broadened as I noticed the hand’s owner. Dana, my best friend.
“Thanks for saving me a seat,” I said, once I’d navigated my way down to her.
“Sure thing. We’re in heaven, you know. People do things like that here.”
I stuck out my tongue at her.
“But they definitely don’t stick out their tongues here!” she said, mocking a reproachful voice.
“Who are you going to tell?” I taunted.
“Hmm...” She placed her fist under her chin as she considered it. “Anyway,” she went on, changing the subject, “so, this is it. Today, graduation. Tomorrow, our first assignments. Who do you think you’ll get?”
I shrugged. “Probably a newborn baby girl. We were told we’d all be assigned newborns.”
“They told us that, because
most
new guardian angels do get newborns, but not all. My Uncle Lyman told me that sometimes they replace a mortal’s guardian angel with a new recruit, just out of the Academy. He says that it only happens under special circumstances.”
“Like what?”
“Not sure, he wouldn’t elaborate. You know how my uncle Lyman can be. He loves knowing things that others don’t.” Then she leaned over closer to me, and said in a low voice, “But I’ve got a feeling that I’m going be assigned to a prince.”
“Sure, like that’s going to happen. You can only be assigned to another female, remember?”
“Hey, it could be one of those special circumstances.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think wanting to stare at
some handsome prince all day counts as a special circumstance. Besides, he’ll be mortal.”
“That’s only temporary. He’ll be back one day.”
“Assuming his guardian angel isn’t too distracted by his good looks,” I added under my breath.
Dana gave me a shove. “I’d bring him back. Can you picture it?” she said, striking a dramatic pose. “He enters through those great gates, lost and confused, and sees me running to him, a dazzling beauty in white. We embrace. I tell him I was his guardian angel on earth, and he falls desperately in love with me.
Then I’ll be a princess and an angel.”
“Wow, you’ve really got this planned out. Don’t you think a handsome prince would get married—to someone he could actually see—before he died?”
She slumped down into her chair in defeat, but shrugged her shoulders the next instant.
“Oh, well. I can still dream, can’t I? Does Liechtenstein have a prince?”
“Where is—”
The words died in my throat.
Without warning, a reverential hush fell over the congregation. Dana and I both turned towards the front of the auditorium. The headmaster, a short portly angel with an affable smile and kind eyes, rose from his seat and addressed us.
“Dear ones,” he began, “on behalf of the distinguished faculty and staff of this great institution, allow me to express our love for you, our pride in your accomplishments, and our heartfelt gratitude for your dedication to this great work. As you know the office of angel cannot be taken by anyone. Each of you has been called to the holy ranks of our Lord
’s royal guard. This is a high honor, never to be treated lightly. After today, as you begin to carry out your duties, you will likely feel unequal to the burden of it. Remember that you have been hand-selected by He who created the heavens and earth. You shall never be alone.
“You are His aides. His arms of love. His protecting hands. His emissaries. Those you guard on earth need yo
ur help. They will daily wander down forbidden paths. You must urge them to return. They will experience sadness and sorrow, grief and pain. You must put your arms around them, let them feel His compassion. You will laugh, cry, and—more often than you think—rejoice with them and for them. And one day, if they have chosen it, you will be able to rejoice together at their final Homecoming. What incomparable joy!
“This distinguished faculty, your eternal friends, who sit behind me have instructed you well. Think back to your first semester at the Academy. Remember how infinitely limited your knowledge seemed when you took Professor Adam’s History of the Universe 101 course? That was just a taste of what you now know, but not so much as a hint of all you have yet to learn. Those things, though, cannot be learned in classrooms. The rest you must learn through experience.
“I cannot reiterate enough how much we love you. We yearn for your happiness. We are sending you off to a battle that has been raging since Time began. The Master of Darkness and his fallen host have never ceased their vicious attack on mortal men. We must likewise remain relentless in our struggle to win back the souls of men.”
He finished by pronouncing a blessing upon the entire congregation. Then, with much solemnity, the headmaster and faculty took their places for the ordination ceremony. One by one, each graduate was called forward. On each the beloved faculty members placed their hands and, with sacred words, ordained them to the Office and Order of Guardian Angel. A white mantle was then placed upon their shoulders, as a symbol
of their new calling.
Not once have I felt boredom in heaven. And, indeed, on earth such an endless supply of graduates would have produced that disagreeable feeling. I experienced nothing of the sort, as I watched my brothers and sisters, my friends, receive their sacred callings.
When my turn came, I gave a quick smile to Dana and rose to my feet. “Go get ‘em” she whispered. I slowly made my way to the front. As I neared the stage, a tangible bolster of pure love and confidence seemed to carry me onward. I climbed the few stairs leading to the stage, where warm and tender smiles awaited me patiently. Something told me that if I had been the only graduate that day they would have been there just for me. Their kindness melted away any lingering timidity still within me, leaving nothing but warmth.
Encircling me, they softly placed their hands upon my head. I have not the skill to write the words of my ordination, for they were far more than words alone. All I can say is that I felt a power beyond my comprehension surging through me as the headmaster spoke. Above all, though, his words filled me with that love which fills all, which leaves no holes or gaps. Tears flowed like rivers down my cheeks. I do not know how long he spoke. Only that when he ended, I felt as if I had just awoken from a wonderful dream. But all the awe and pleasure of it did not fade and vanish away.
As he had done with those who came before me, the headmaster brought forth a long white mantle and ceremoniously laid it upon my shoulders. Then he spoke again.
“Upon thee, Forenica, we place this holy mantle, the symbol of thine office. Hence f
orth, thy duty shall call thee to toil for the salvation of the children of God, until our Eternal Father declares the work complete.”
When the headmaster finished, I slowly rose, feeling utterly different from when I had sat down. In a kind of daze, I shook hands with each of the faculty members, and then floated back to my seat next to Dana. She whispered something to me, but I didn’t hear. Wonder fill
ed my thoughts. I was an angel.
Angel Command
A
ngel Command stands on a hill, overlooking a boundless ocean of lush valleys and meadows. With great castle-like walls, spire-capped towers at each corner, and one mighty spire rising from its central tower, it looks every bit the citadel of heaven.
I met up with Dana near the base of the hill.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said, “ready to find out what lucky mortal gets
you
for her guardian angel?”
“Whoever she is, she won’t be half as lucky as the Prince of Frankenstein will be.”
“Liechtenstein,” she corrected.
“Right. Do you even know where that is?”
“On earth, of course,” was her smug reply. “Do you think an angel could ever be allowed to marry a mortal?”
I shrugged. “Not sure.” Then I motioned toward a group of angels heading up the hill. “Shall we?”
A sense of awe filled me as we ascended toward that noble edifice. Dana and I moved along in silence. No doubt she also felt it. At length, we crested the hill, and I saw Angel Command in its full grandeur and beauty. From the foot of the hill it had looked immense, but standing there, within a stone’s throw of its arched entryway, it was absolutely mountainous.
Dana and I passed through the tall double doors, and entered a broad and startlingly vacant antechamber. I glanced around the room. No one. A group of angels had entered just ahead of us.
“That’s odd, where did everyone go?”
Dana didn’t respond. I looked back over my shoulder. “Dana?” I turned a complete circle. Dana was nowhere to be seen.
Doubly odd
, I thought to myself. Dana had been right on my heals as we entered. I scanned the room again, looking for a door or sign—anything. But I saw nothing. I decided to see if maybe Dana was still outside, but when I turned to leave, I found that the door I came in through was now just a solid wall.
Ok, what next?
This was not how I had imagined my first day on the job.
Did I miss some memo about this? Perhaps it was some kind of test. But what kind of test? IQ? Sanity? Ability to crush walls?
“Forenica, I’m so pleased you’re here,” said a voice from behind me. I started, then spun around to discover the source of the voice. A short, grandmotherly angel, with arms open wide, stood before me. “How are you?”
“Well, I’m a little confused,” I said as she squeezed my middle. “What happened to everyone else? And what happened to the doors?”
“They all went to their own entry.”
“Their own entry? How can that be, we all came in through the same door?”
“Yes, but the door’s purpose for Dana was different than the door’s purpose for you.”
I furrowed my brow as I tried to understand this riddle.
“So what happened to the door? Why did it disappear?”
“Because it has served its purpose.”
“So, how do I get out?”
“You’ll find a door there when you need it,” she said.
“OK,” I said, a little dubiously.
“You’re going to love today. Shall we begin?” She gestured towards the nearest wall.
“Uh, sure,” I replied, still confused. The wall was still empty. No door of any kind. “Trust me,” she said.
She took my hand in hers and we walked forward a few paces, until we were nearly touching the wall. When we reached the point at which we could no longer continue, she turned to me with a smile and then took another step. Timidly I moved my leg to the wall. It touched the wall, but I did not feel anything—nothing solid. My foot penetrated the wall, as if the wall were nothing more than an illusion. I pushed through more of my leg, then my hands and arms, and finally the rest of me. We halted just on the other side of the wall. I turned back to look at the wall. It still looked like a solid wall.
“Matter is not so tricky as they believe on earth,” my little guide said. “Well, here we are, dear. Welcome to Angel Command.”
We stood on the periphery of an enormous room, with a high ceiling, pierced all over with sparkling skylight. A great traffic of busy angels of every shape and size whisked by in front of us on some important errand. They came from every direction, streaming in from countless passages along the walls. My guide took my hand and led me into one of the streams. We were instantly in motion, as if we’d stepped onto a conveyor belt. We might have floated along like that forever had my guide not pulled us out and into one of the side passages.
We were once again moving of our own volition. Before us stretched a long arched corridor, flanked by countless angels standing at attention. Each of these angels was clad as soldiers prepared for war. Impressive helmets adorned with wings protected their heads. Breastworks of fine metal covered their torsos. Mighty shields hung over their backs. Their feet were shod, their hands bare. Each was girded with a flaming sword, the weapon of heaven. They stood in perfect dignity and honor, still as statues.
“These are the Angels at Arms,” my guide explained. “Especially selected by Him.”
“What do they do?” I asked.
“They are waiting.”
“For what?”
“For Him to call, dear. For the last battle.”
That explains the swords
, I thought. Everyone at the Academy takes Flaming Sword Fencing—it’s required.
“Will I have to carry a sword when that time comes?”
“We all will play some part. I don’t know what yours will be. But do not worry yourself. There is still much to do before then.” She put her arm around me as we walked to the end of the corridor.
We came into a circular chamber with a vaulted ceiling. In the center of the floor stood a desk, at which sat a plump angel humming a merry tune to herself. She greeted us exuberantly. She, too, knew my name.
“Forenica, I’m overjoyed to see you!” she said, hurrying over to us. “I was hoping to see you soon. Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet her! What a special assignment this is! You’ll adore her. Simply love her. Just stay right where you are. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
And with that, she scurried off, disappearing behind one of the many doors which lined the wall behind the desk, all the while saying, “Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!”
I smiled. “What a nut!”
“That’s Lyra,” said my guide. “She’s the Keeper of Records. A sweeter soul you shall never meet.”
“She’s certainly energetic,” I said.
At that moment, Lyra returned carrying a small leather-bound book. She had not been gone more than half a minute. “This is the one,” she said, holding it up for us to see. “Everything you need to know is inside these pages.” I raised an eyebrow. “Come, I’ll show you,” she said, giddy with excitement. She motioned for us to follow her to one of the side doors on our right.
The door opened to a small, simply-furnished room. Everything in it was bright and perfectly white. Three soft chairs surrounded a small circular table. Otherwise, the room was empty.
Lyra bustled over to the table and chair. “Come, come. S
it down, please.” When we had seated ourselves around the table, she resumed her animated instruction. “Now Forenica, before I get to the part you’re really interested in, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” I shook my head. “Good. First, let me start with a little introduction. As I’m sure your guide has told you, my name is Lyra. I’m head of the archives, the Keeper of Records. Within this area of Angel Command, we chronicle the life of every soul on earth. Each life is captured in a book, like this one.” She held up the book that she’d retrieved just moments before.
“Now, you might be wondering why I’m telling you this. And why I’ve brought the book for you to see. We shall come to that shortly. First, tell me what you know about the assignment process.”
“Well,” I began, “they told us at the Academy that guardian angels are always assigned to members of their same gender.”
“That is correct—without exception. Please, go on.”
So much for Dana’s plans,
I thought.
“That we would be assigned to guard the mortal for the duration of her mortal life.”
“Yes, yes, quite right.”
“And that we would be assigned to a newborn baby. That’s all, I think.”
“Very good! Now, you might have heard rumors,” she said as a sly smile crept across her face, “that there are some exceptions to the last two rules you mentioned.”
“Well—”
“It’s OK, I know all about those rumors. All the angels these days love talking about it. Forenica, they are not rumors.” The way she said this made my heart beat faster. I don’t know why it should have had an effect on me. It wasn’t as if this was shocking news. Lyra was staring at me intently now, her eyes narrowed, looking more serious than I thought her capable of. She seemed to be reading me, trying to extract some deep secret from my soul. I shifted in my seat. A notable tension hung in the air. Then the seriousness dissolved from Lyra’s face, and the tension lifted.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said in a calming tone, “you haven’t done anything wrong. Quite the contrary. No, Forenica it’s not a rumor. But so rare are the instances that it might as well be a rumor. Nevertheless, it has happened, but seldom, very seldom. Not one in every thousand angels receives such and assignment. One angel every millennium—if that frequent.”
She leaned forward, that same grave expression returning to her face. And when she spoke again her voice was pitched low. “You, Forenica, are one of those angels.”
There was a moment’s silence. I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“So...what does that mean?” I finally asked.
“It means that you have your work cut out for you. Guarding a newborn is wonderful. But, honestly, there’s not much to it for the first few years. You’ll be starting with a grown woman. That’s a whole different story.”
“But why me? I’m just a junior guardian angel. Shouldn’t someone more experienced have this assignment? And why is this woman getting a new angel? Did she do something to the last one?”
Lyra erupted into laughter. “Don’t worry, Forenica, we’ve yet to have a mortal hurt any of our angels,” she said, still giggling. “I can’t tell you why you were selected for this assignment. Only He could tell you that. There’s nothing wrong with the mortal you’re being assigned to, or her previous angel. I’m just as surprised as you about the change, to be quite frank. There’s obviously something there that we don’t see or know. He wouldn’t pick you for this assignment unless you were the right one—you may be sure of that.
“Now, Forenica, I think we’ve had enough preamble,” she continued, not giving me a chance to further protest. “I think it’s about time you met your first charge.” Then, taking the book in both of her in hands, Lyra held it out in front of her and gently brought the book down onto the table. Instantly, the book began to glow, and a miniature figure of a woman appeared floating just above it. Her slender body was clothed in an unadorned gown of pure white, the skirt of which fell nearly covered bare feet. Her long flaxen hair cascaded off her shoulders, and fell about her lovely face, which was pierced with two eyes, blue as a cloudless sky. She could have passed for an angel.
“Forenica, meet Angela.”
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
“Indeed, but very much in need of your help.”
“What’s the matter with her?”
“Nothing you can’t help her with, dear,” she replied with a smirk. “Now, a little background about Angela. She’s thirty-six—if I recall that’s not too much older than you when you died?”
“About ten years older,” I said.
“Oh well, mortal years are so inconsequential. I could talk about the age of your soul and thirty-six would sound like less than a speck of time.
“Where were we? Ah yes, thirty-six and married. Jack’s her husband—quite a hunk, I might add. They’ve been blessed with three special spirits. Catherine, the oldest, is fifteen and a teenage girl through and through. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to learn all about that. Next comes Justin. He’s ten and good at keeping Catherine...aware of his presence, to put it kindly. And, of course, the littlest, the closest to heaven, is Kailey. Age six, a very sweet—sometimes mischievous—six. She gives us plenty of laughs up here. But that’s only the beginning. Everything you need to know about Angela you will find within the pages of this book: all her thoughts, her utterances, her deeds, recorded in perfect detail.
“This knowledge is sacred, so you must treat it with the utmost reverence. The book shall remain in our archives, but you may access it any time you have ne
ed. Do you have any questions?”
My head was full of them, mostly concerning my election for this particular assignment and why this precious being needed my help. It seemed, however, that I wasn’t getting answers to those questions anytime soon, so I held my tongue.
“Forenica,” she said, apparently in response to my thoughts, “I cannot tell you the mind of God, only that there is reason and purpose and love behind all that He does. You do not know the answers to your questions because you do not need them answered. But I have a feeling they will be answered, by and by.”
I knew she spoke the truth, so I resigned myself, hoping that I would soon solve the mystery. Lyra removed the book from the table, and instantly Angela’s image faded away. To my surprise, this saddened me slightly. Apparently my attachment to Angela had already begun to grow, though I hadn’t even met the real woman. But Lyra quickly alleviated my sorrow.