I believe in angels.
There is a goodness that walks among us in the form of friend, family and stranger who does a deed in the course of our lives that may alter our very path. And we never know it.
They may not alter it at all. But watch over us and give us comfort and security when we can’t find it or feel it. They may just know to keep an eye on our sadness and a gentle hand on our back to reassure us that we are not alone.
I also believe in the existence of forces beyond our ability to see, touch or hear. At least on a conscious level. I believe we do see, touch and hear them. Just maybe in forms we don’t know.
I have a wonderful friend who’s heart is breaking over a situation she can’t control. And she doesn’t know what to do. Her very faith is shaken. She does believe. She just doesn’t understand. So we talked about what she wants, what she wishes, and what she doesn’t understand. If she only knew what to hold on to she thinks she could get through it.
I was in my garage working on some projects and I couldn’t get her words out of my heart. I sat on one of the crates. And I picked up a tiny, and I mean tiny, piece of wood. I just needed something to hold on to. My mind was running through her hurt. I felt helpless to comfort her. I stared at my hands as I turned the little piece of wood over and over in my hands. It felt good to just touch it. Hold it. It occurred to me that I was getting comfort from that little piece of wood. I had recently made an angel for a project I had been working on. But I wanted something different. I used the piece of wood I had been holding. And I shaped it into the tiniest angel I could without cutting my fingertips off. I sanded it down. I held on to it for a little while. I thought about staining it, or painting it, and decided against it.
And I took it to her. I told her that until she could feel the presence of her faith and the angels around her maybe she could touch this little one. And know…angels exist. She ran her fingers over the little angel. And we talked a little more about what she wished for, what she needed, what she desperately prayed for every day. She kept looking at the little angel. She repeated, real softly to me, that maybe when she doesn’t think they’re out there she can just touch it and it will help.
And she smiled. And she hugged me.
And we both got a little something we needed.
And I know without a doubt that angels exist.