Diary of an Angel (5 page)

Discovery

A
lost job? That was the difficult trial? Honestly, I expected much worse and felt relieved by the news. Anawin, though, warned not to trivialize Jack’s job loss.

“Do not underestimate the challenge this will be for Angela and her family,” she had counseled. “You saw yourself how Angela reacted to the news.”

“I know. But he’ll get another job, and then everything will be fine, right?”

“Maybe, maybe not. We’re not often given to know the future, dear. But I would guess that God doesn’t intend for Jack to simply find a different job, and go on as before. I would be rather surprised if this turns out to be merely a temporary inconvenience.”

Anawin had been right, of course. Weeks passed by, the children had returned to school from their summer break, but Jack still had not found a job. No one seemed to be hiring someone with Jack’s skills. As the days and weeks passed, Angela became increasingly distressed. I gathered from her muddled thoughts that Jack and Angela’s savings were scantly. She wondered how long they could get by without any source of income. Each time Jack returned from a search unsuccessful, a little cloud of darkness grew in Angela’s life.

More than their financial plight, I worried about Jack and Angela’s relationship. In the wake of their heated encounter, anger and ill feeling
s had surged through Angela like a rampaging tempest. Fear and dismay, however, thoroughly quelled that storm, and by the next day Angela had forgotten the fight. Yet something was not right between them; they were cold and indifferent towards each other, unsupportive, calloused. They had scarcely exchanged words since that calamitous morning. When they did, the words were curt and impersonal. Angela avoided Jack as much as possible, and Jack did likewise. Nothing I did helped bridge the gap. Angela was completely impervious to my efforts.

I cried nearly every day during those awful weeks, whilst the devils cackled maniacally.

What was going on? How could they be so cold and indifferent? Had they been like this before Jack lost his job? Clairus offered no insight into this quandary. After one particularly frustrating day, and failing again to get any useful information from Clairus, I resolved to approach Anawin for some additional guidance.

I found Anawin reading a book in the library, and I sat down beside her in a comfortable armchair. I waited quietly, while Anawin continued reading. After some time, Anawin let out a sigh and placed the book in her lap. She turned and smiled at me warmly.

“I love that part,” she said. “Have you ever read it?”

She held up the book so that I could read the gold letters on its cover.
Jane Eyre
.

“I’ve heard of it,” I said.

“Well, if you’re ever in the mood for a good love story...Anyway, what can I do for you, my dear?”

“I think there’s an important piece of Angela’s past that I don’t know about—something that should explain Jack and Angela’s estrangement.”

“Oh?”

“Yes...there must be. They couldn’t just get that way overnight. Something must have initiated it. Surely you know something?”

“I know everything about Jack and Angela’s life together.”

“Then there’s nothing that could have caused this rift between them?”

“I didn’t say that.”

I frowned. Anawin was being about as helpful as Clairus had been.

“Can you not tell me, then?”

Anawin placed her hand on mine and looked at me with tenderness.

“You’ve been given all the information you need to help Angela.”

“But—”

“Forenica, you have forgotten something.”

“Forgotten something?”

“Yes.” And she held up her book again and tapped the cover with her fingers. Her eyes peered into mine, as if to communicate some secret message. I looked back down at the book then back at her.
Jane Eyre? No
.
What did I forget?
And then it struck me. “The book. Angela’s book!” I nearly shouted. “I almost forgot about it.”

“I know, dear. In the future, though, I think you shall remember. Now, go, my child, you have studying to do.”

I hugged Anawin and thanked her, then I dashed out of the library. Lyra did not look the least bit surprise to see me sprinting into the Archives.

“Forenica!” she exclaimed, “You’ve been away for too long. How I hoped to see you soon! Look at you. You’re becoming quite an experienced guardian. It shows in your eyes.” She paused and put her hands on her wide hips with an air of satisfaction. “I bet you’re here for that book of hers, aren’t you? You stay right here. I’ll be back with it in a jiffy.”

She hurried off, humming a cheery tune, disappearing behind one of the doors along the far wall. A second later, she reappeared waving the little book in her hand as she hurried back to me.
How does she do that?
I marveled
.
There must be billions of books to sort through, not to mention thousands of Angelas.

“Here you are, Angela’s book. Now, you may use this room there on the left. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I thanked her and entered the room, identical to the one where Lyra and Anawin first showed me Angela’s book. I went over and sat in one of the chairs surrounding the small table, opened the book and began thumbing through its crisp pages. Each page contained beautiful hand-written letters, delicately scripted like the books copied by monks many hundred years past. The book contained neither chapter markers nor table of contents. So, starting from the beginning seemed like as good an idea as any. I turned to the first page and placed the book on the table.

Little time passed before I became engrossed in Angela’s story, happily watching the events of her early life. I laughed and smiled, cried for sorrow and wept for joy. I saw Angela as a perfect, innocent baby. Her parents treasured and adored her. She grew into a little girl, impish as her own Kailey, sweet as heaven’s dew. Growing older, she started middle school, adolescence began. Clothes and makeup and hair and boys all took their place as things of great importance. Those awkward years, where her little girl beauty transformed into more womanly physical beauty, came on in full force: braces filled her mouth, glasses masked her stunning blue eyes. She acutely felt that awkwardness—desired to be beautiful and adored. High school began and with it new trials and struggles. She battled to find her place in the world, to fit in. Friends, bad and good, came and went. The first date ended in tears. How I wished I might ha
ve been there to hold her hand.

She started college and mostly kept out of trouble. Until she and Jack met in a required political science class. She fell hopelessly in love with him. After just a few short months of dating, Jack proposed. Both sets of parents objected to their rushed engagement, insisting that the young couple needed to first complete their education. Jack and Angela refused to wait. And so, true to their words, Jack and Angela’s parents discontinued financial support.

The newlyweds, penniless but happy, were forced to drop out of college. They both worked hard for mediocre pay. Then Catherine was born. She was a precious child, with her mother’s golden hair and sapphire eyes. Angela quit her job so she could take care of Catherine at home. They were happy years for Jack and Angela.

Then I came to something which took me off my guard. Almost two years after Catherine was born, Angela was pregnant with another child.

What had happened to the child? Justin was the next oldest child, and a six-year age gap separated him and Catherine. Did she miscarry the baby? I raced through the next nine months. Nothing unusual occurred. A perfectly healthy pregnancy. The child was born. Another gorgeous girl, with those same features as her mother. The baby grew strong and healthy. Her nearly three-year-old sister, Catherine, adored her baby sister. They had named her Lily.

I read on, dreading every page, knowing that something was going to happen to sweet, little Lily. Then I finally came to it.

Lily was nine months old, and just beginning to crawl. Angela had gone out shopping with a friend—a rare treat for her. Jack chanced to have the Saturday off and volunteered to babysit while Angela went off to have fun that afternoon. Jack seldom watched the children alone, partly because he worked so much, and partly because Angela fretted over leaving her baby. But feeling like she needed a much deserved break, she decided it would be OK.

Before leaving, Angela left a detailed list of instructions for Jack to follow. Of particular importance was the children’s nap schedule and routine. (If the children’s schedules were messed up, everything was messed up.) Jack assured her the children would be fine, and off she went.

Angela returned several hours later, having enjoyed her outing, but missing her children. Jack greeted her with a kiss and she hugged him and thanked him for watching the kids. Catherine ran up and hugged Angela’s legs. Angela picked up her three-year-old and gave her a big hug. Angela asked Jack about Lily.

“I put her down right at two, just like you said,” he responded, feeling pleased with himself.

“And she’s still asleep?”

“I haven’t heard her make any noise.”

“She never sleeps this long. I’ll go check on her.”

The moment Angela opened Lily’s door she knew something was wrong. She rushed over to the crib and saw Lily’s face. It was pale and her lips were blue. Angela quickly picked her up. Lily’s body felt cold and lifeless. Frantically, Angela tried to revive her, to wake her up. She shook her gently, patted her back, breathed in her mouth, called to her. It was too late, though. Lily was gone.

The authorities who investigated Lily’s death called it a case of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). That was hardly a sufficient explanation for Angela. They also said that no one was at fault for the death. Sometimes babies simply die in their sleep, inexplicably. In her heart, though, Angela refused to accept that. She convinced herself that Jack had done something wrong. Over and over, she replayed an imaginary scene where she stayed home and put the baby down for a nap. If only she had stayed home, Lily would still be alive.

She thought about this so often during the weeks after Lily’s death that she became obsessed with it. Though she never openly accused or blamed Jack for Lily’s death, her treatment of him after that said it all. For a long time afterward she was cold and short-tempered with Jack. Seldom did they talk or display any sort of affection. They grew further and further apart until their marriage bore little resemblance to the blossoming flower it once was.

Angela resisted any comfort God had to offer. She blamed Him more than Jack for Lily’s death. How could God take her Lily from her? Why? What had she done? Such questions gnawed relentlessly at her soul.

She listened with frustration as books and preachers taught her about trials and the necessity to bare all things well. They spoke of the limitations of human understanding and ability to comprehend God’s doings. They spoke of His love. Love? Was it love which tore her baby from her? If that was God’s love she didn’t want anything to do with it.

Still, she yearned for answers, for some solace. She had believed once all that she had been taught about trials and opposition. Trust in God did have a place in her heart before Lily’s death. But now her faith was rocked. She demanded answers—as if answers could restore her daughter. Thus she shut out heaven, and the light of her world grew dim.

The passing of the years softened her some. Eventually, she ceased to blame Jack for Lily’s death, though she never quit
e forgave or forgot. Happiness—or a likeness of it—slowly made its way back into their marriage. Nothing like their previous love ever returned. They were more like well-acquainted roommates with a mutual bond: Catherine. All their work and focus centered on Catherine, and then engulfed the other children when they came along.

Angela’s relationship with God improved over time as well. It was not the same, however. Her view of God had been altered. He no longer possessed that infinite mercy and good will in which she once believed. Her new god was harsh and hard, difficult to please, terrible to cross.

I closed the book. Tear drops clung to my cheeks. Wiping them away, I picked up the book and went back out where Lyra sat humming. I approached and placed the book on the counter in front of her. Lyra looked up at me and seemed to read the expression on my face. No doubt, also, she knew perfectly the contents of Angela’s book.

Still she smiled at me as though there wasn’t a care in the entire universe. “All stories have sad parts, Forenica.” She took my hand and squeezed it tight. “This one’s ending has yet to be written, though. And I have a feeling it’s going to be a very happy ending.”

A fresh tear formed and made its way down my cheek. “Thank you,” I replied softly.

“Thank
you
, dear. Thank
you
. Please come see me anytime. I do so love to see you.”

I promised I would, then turned to leave. Lyra had given me hope. I knew what I needed t
o do. It was time to meet Lily.

Lily

A
ll children belong to Heaven. It defies the mercy of God to send an innocent child to Hell. And so I went to the Nursery, where I knew I could find Lily, still a baby, waiting for Angela and Jack to return and finish raising her.

No walls or roof enclose the Nursery, only hills and mountains, clouds and sky. It fills an immense valley, a paradise within Paradise. It’s my most favorite place in all of heaven. Not for its sheer beauty, but for the children. Everywhere little glowing spirits race about, here and there, playing chase, climbing trees, singing, laughing, swimming.

Standing on a hilltop overlooking the outstretched valley, I looked down where the Nursery lay, where I expected to find Angela’s own sweet Lily. Even from that high point, the happy sounds of children playing filled my ears. A heart-shaped lake of pure water sat in the center of the valley. Rivers and streams weaved through the unpredictable landscape, forming waterfalls and water slides. Trees of every sort and every height and girth dotted the land. The trees grew in marvelous patterns, their trunks and branches twisting and curling, intertwining to form tree-houses for exploring, hammocks for sleeping, swings, slides, and a myriad of other things for play. Tall hills for rolling down poked out from among the trees. The animals, though, were the main attraction. Every kind of animal found on earth—and not—bounded around. Children rode their backs, hung from their necks, and chased them tirelessly. Eagles and other large birds, which have no earthly names, were among the children’s favorite animals. For these magnificent creatures could carry one or two on their backs as they soared through the clouds.

My search for Lily began by looking for one of the nurses. It did not take long before I found one. She was on the ground, hunched over on all fours like a dog, with children piled on top of her back all laughing and giggling.

I stood silently watching the merriment for some time before the nurse took notice of me.

“You don’t want on, do you?” she said with a huge grin. I shook my head, very amused at such an idea. “Good, I don’t think I have room.” Then she went on playing.

After another while, the game ended, the children’s attention having been diverted by a giraffe running by. The playful nurse came over to me.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from an angel?” she said, apparently recognizing my mantle. “I hope you’re not here recruiting. I would hate to lose any of the children. They are all so precious, you see.”

“I’m looking for a child...of the mortal over whom I have charge. Her name is Lily. She—”

“Of course, Lily. She’s one of my favorites. I’m sure her parents miss her dearly. Come, I’ll take you to her.”

The nurse turned and darted down a path, which disappeared into the woods. I followed, shaking my head.
How did she know which Lily I meant? Surely she’s not the only one.
I was pondering this, and wondering if I would ever learn the trick, when the path the nurse was leading me down came to a glade.

Sunlight smiled down on the opening, glistening off dew-covered grass and dancing playfully on the surface of a brook running through it. All around, crawling babies and just-starting-to-walk babies played happily. Small animals—rabbits, puppies, squirrels, tiny song birds—hopped, scurried and flitted about, much to the babies’ delight. Several nurses were among the little ones, holding their hands as they walked, tickling their miniature feet, lifting them into the air like soaring birds—easily having as much fun as the children.

“You’ll find that sweet Lily just over there,” the nurse said, as she pointed to a flower-laden knoll where a huddle of children sat petting an excessively attentive Dalmatian puppy. “Is there anything else you will need of me?”

“No, thank you for your help.”

“Of course, of course. Well, I’ll be heading back now. Enjoy.”

When the nurse had left, I slowly approached the spot where Lily was. I’m not sure why, but I felt a touch of nervousness at meeting her. Perhaps, because I had just finished reading about her death. But there I stood, not an hour later, about to see Lily, more alive than she’d ever been on earth. That’s one of those things about heaven which takes some getting used to. My heart beat faster as I drew nearer.

I recognized her the instant I saw her. Her sunlit hair. Her brilliant blue eyes and radiant smile. She looked just as she did in Angela’s book. She crawled over to me, as I came closer and sat up on her knees, arms out-stretched. I reached down, scooped her off the ground and hugged her tightly against my chest. My spirit purred like a kitten.

Holding her in my arms I talked to her and told her who I was and why I’d come. She didn’t talk but seemed to understand all I told her. I had heard before of angels taking a deceased loved o
ne back to comfort a grieving mother, father, son, daughter, husband, or wife. I wanted to do this for Angela. She wouldn’t actually see her baby girl, but she might still be comforted by her—if she listened. I explained my idea to Lily and she smiled joyfully in assent.

“Good, then I will come for you tomorrow.”

With another hug, I said goodbye, then set her back onto the ground.
Until tomorrow then.

*   *   *

Lily, Clairus and I arrived in Angela’s bedroom just before she awoke. Angela lay next to Jack, who was snoring softly—Jack had taken to sleeping in since his job-loss. Lily clapped her hands excitedly when she saw them. I placed her on the bed in the Lily-size gap between them.

Lily crawled up closer to her mother’s face. She patted Angela’s cheeks, kissed her, and wrapped her arms around her neck, placing her cheek next to Angela’s. There she lay, holding tightly until Angela opened her eyes. She opened them reluctantly, almost immediately shutting them, as if trying to block out the new day. Lily gave her another kiss and squeezed her more intently. I watched Angela’s thoughts with rapt attention. Her eyes opened again and stared blankly at the wall. Then she felt Lily’s embrace. Not her physical touch, but the warmth and love of it.

They stayed like that for some time. Angela continued to lie on the bed, eyes opened but not seeing, like she was lost in a far-off dream. I felt loath to interrupt this sweet scene. After learning of my desires to bring Lily to Angela, Anawin had counseled me not make this merely a warm-feelings visit.

“Angela needs to associate those feelings with Lily,” she had said. “That may require you to recall to her mind painful memories. She may push away when you do, but you must take the risk. Otherwise Lily’s visit to earth will be of little value. And Forenica...you’re not likely to be granted this opportunity again.”

I crouched next to Angela’s bedside and began running my hands through her hair. I sighed. “Oh, Angela,” I said softly, but not for her to hear. “How beautiful you are! Heaven’s missing one of her stars.”

Then I spoke to her. “Angela, that’s Lily. Lily’s here with you.” Lily’s name entered her mind like an electric shock. Almost immediately a floodgate released a surge of emotions. Bitter thoughts jabbed painfully at her mind. Guilt, regret, anger, spite all swirled and swelled within her, determined to rob her of the happiness she felt just moments before. Painful memories unfolded in her mind. But this was a battle she’d fought before. And at length, she forced those dark thoughts back into their hole.

I took hold of her hand. “Lily’s here. She is well. She is OK.”

Then I reached into the depths of her memory and pulled out sweet remembrances—painful still, but sweet. She saw in her mind scenes of Lily: the joyful day she was born; her first smiles and laughs; how little Catherine loved doting on her; the way she loved playing peek-a-boo with Jack; the mess she made the first time she ate solid food; her first attempts at crawling; the way her little mouth hung open as she slept peacefully. A faint smile touched Angela’s face. I told her again that Lily was happy and well. I told her over and over again, while Lily continued to pat and kiss her cheek. The thought reverberated through her mind.

Slowly, imperceptibly, a new feeling began to grow inside her. That feeling which only heaven can grant, which can drive away grief and sorrow, and turn away fear. Peace. And it was to Angela as a warm quilt on a winter’s night. Tears began to pour from her eyes and collect on her pillow. I smiled at Lily, who was now kissing her mother excitedly. A soft hand touched my shoulder. I turned back to see Clairus, two teardrops resting on her smiling cheeks. With the briefest of nods she told me what I already knew—Lily’s time had ended.

I nodded, and then turned back to them. How I wished we did not have to separate them again! If only Angela could have come back with us and leave the mortal world forever. But it was not her time. Lily gave her one final embrace, one that must last until that day when nothing would ever separate them again. Then picking Lily up once more, we returned her to heaven.

*   *   *

Angela was quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the day, a mix of emotions flooding her thoughts. Her unexpected experience that morning left her uncertain what to think or feel. For so long she’d held firm to her bitterness that letting it go felt unnatural.

Justin and Kailey noticed their mother’s tractable behavior and readily took advantage of her, for which Avin and Viana were kept especially busy. Jack also perceived this change in Angela’s demeanor, though he made no comment to her about it. They were still avoiding unnecessary contact.

A noticeable silence hung over dinner. Not even the usually loquacious Kailey uttered a word. I almost wished Justin would launch some food at Catherine just to break the silence. At last, dinner ended and the family members went their separate ways. I continued to cling to Angela as much as she would let me. With a little persuasion I convinced her to take an evening walk. She’d been in the house all day and needed to get out.

Angela stepped out into the cool September air. The waning sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows on the world. A light breeze carried the faint sound of drums from the high school band, playing off in the distance.

Pensively, she walked down the sidewalk with her eyes stuck to the pavement. After a few blocks, she turned a corner, crossed the street, and left the sidewalk for a wooded pathway, which led through a small, dense population of trees. This small wooded patch eventually opened to a park, through which she continued her walk. Up a short hill her path led, passing a bench and lamp at the top, where Angela paused and sat down.

The bench faced west. For the first time since she left, she noticed the sun. It hung low in the darkening sky, slowly sinking. She watched as vivid hues of raspberry and violet danced along the horizon. The sun, a burst of gold, cast its glistening light upon the scene, igniting the clouds in a fiery red. The entire world, the trees and hills, the birds and little creatures, even the drumming of the band seemed to have paused to watch God’s painting unfold.

Angela gazed at the sunset in quiet reverie. She used to come to this hill often to watch the sun sink into the horizon. That was before Lily’s death. Now the glowing sky’s visage sparked sweet memories, which had lain dormant for too long.

A few tears she’d bottled up all day trickled slowly down Angela’s cheek.

“Look who’s coming,” Clairus said, unexpectedly breaking the silence. I looked down the path we had walked up with Angela. Jack was making his way
irresolutely up the hill. Glaven followed closely at his heals, tenaciously prodding him forward. When they reached us I gave Glaven a how-did-you-do that look, to which he only responded with a smile and a wink.

Angela hadn’t notice Jack approach. He was almost seated next to her before she looked up to see who it was. Her eyes grew wide with surprise at finding Jack next to her. Jack paused in a half-sitting position.

“Hi,” he said, a bit awkwardly. “Mind if I sit here?”

“No,” she responded softly, then returned her attention to the setting sun.

The space between them on the bench was just slightly too close for strangers. Definitely too far away for
two
who were supposed to be
one
. For some time, neither of them spoke. Angela continued to watch the setting sun, which was now nearly out of sight, though the clouds above it still glowed like burning embers. Jack picked up a leaf from the ground and began picking it apart.

Angela’s thoughts grew in intensity. She contemplated whether she should talk to Jack about Lily. She wanted to. She dearly wanted someone to talk to. But they had never been able to talk about Lily together. They had tried before, but it had always ended in harsh words and hurt feelings.

I took Angela in my arms and encouraged and comforted. Her heartbeat increased as she thought about how to start, what to say. She stuck her hands beneath her thighs and rocked forward.

“Do you ever wonder if Lily is OK?” she said, her voice faintly quivering. Jack started, completely taken off his guard by the question. He shifted in the bench uncomfortably.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, after a considerable pause.

“Do you think she’s in heaven? That we’ll ever see her again?”

Jack’s answer came even more cautiously. “I guess so...at least, I used to think we would all be in heaven one day, before...” His voice trailed off.

Another protracted silence followed.