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Authors: Michael M. Farnsworth

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BOOK: Diary of an Angel
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They crossed the street and came towards us, as if to meet us. Catherine did not stop, however. Despite the circumstances my heart overjoyed to see Catherine again, my forgotten friend from a life out of memory. How I longed to hold her! There was little time for that. Already she neared that dangerous venue. Clairus and I united our strength with Loreli in effort to dissuade Catherine.

Onward she trudged.

We continued like that for another block. Suddenly, I felt it, not strong at first, but growing in strength with every step. A tangible void, a lack of God’s presence. Something wicked and depraved lingered near. A sense of uneasiness spread over me as we went on. Soon after, we turned a corner, and I beheld the source of my growing uneasiness. It was but a house, two stories tall, barricaded along the street with cars. A group of teenagers was tramping raucously up its walkway, while music boomed from somewhere within. To Catherine’s mortal eyes it was just a party house. The dark shroud engulfing it was invisible to her. Nor could she see the demons. They lurked everywhere, swarming around like vultures, their hunched figures dancing savagely as they surrounded their incoming prey. The din of their malevolent howls and cackles filled the night air, sending a chill through my soul.

It was then that I understood the dreadful peril that Catherine was in. We could not go anywhere near that house. If Catherine went inside she would abandon heaven’s aid, voluntarily subjecting herself to the onslaught of those foul creatures. I understood why Loreli had asked for help. The thought of Catherine entering that house completely overwhelmed me.

The moment of truth had arrived. Catherine hesitated on the sidewalk furthest from the house. She stepped onto the street. I grabbed her arm and begged her to stop.

Onward she trudged.

Each step brought her closer to that awful blackness.

Onward she trudged.

I ple
aded more urgently.

Onward she trudged.

During what seemed like an eternity, she reached the other side of the street. I could hold on no longer, could go no further. I let her precious arm slip out of my hands.

From my knees I called out to her, “Catherine! Catherine! My sweet Catherine, come back!” But to no avail. She could not hear. I dropped to my hands and sobbed, still calling her name. Weakness, a strange loss of strength, began to creep over me. My world began to go black. Faintly I heard Clairus’ voice. “Angel down!” And then all was dark.

XI

Angel Tears

 

I
awoke to splendid rays of sunlight tickling my eyelids, and caressing my face. I opened my eyes and inhaled a gulp of sweet air, then exhaled with satisfaction. I did not know how, but I was certainly back in heaven.

I sat up in the downy bed and examined my surroundings. I was in an immense bedchamber, fit for a king. Off to one side, sitting on a sofa, were Clairus and Anawin. When they saw me they stood and quickly came to my bedside.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head,” Clairus greeted me.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Much has happened, dear,” replied Anawin calmly.

“But what happened to Catherine? Is she alright?”

Anawin look at me tenderly. “We shall come to that,” she said. “Do you feel well, child?”

“Yes, I feel fabulous,” I said.

“Good. Shall we take a little walk, then?” she said, holding out her hand for me to take.

I rose from the bed and Anawin put her arm in mine. We departed from the room.

“Is Clairus not coming?” I asked.

“No dear, I wish to speak to you privately.”

What was going on? I wanted to know what happened to Catherine. Was she OK? How had I ended up back in heaven? What had happened to me on earth? But I knew it would be futile to press Anawin for answers sooner than she was ready to give them. So, I kept silent, and followed her out of the room, where we entered into a long sunlit hallway. Leaving the hallway, we descended a wide split staircase, crossed a marble floor, then exited the grand house, where a celestial breeze waited with open arms to greet us.

We walked a considerable distance before Anawin broke her silence.

“Now, my child, you wish to know about Catherine?”

“Of course, is she alright?”

“We will come to that. First, however, I would like to discuss what happened to you.”

“Yes,” I said, “why did everything go black? How did I get back to heaven?”

She paused and looked at me solemnly. “You lost hope.”

“What?” I said, shocked and confused.

“Forenica, for the briefest of moments you let grief and worry overcome your hope. And in that moment a flood of darkness besieged you. That’s when your spirit retreated into itself, and you—in a manner of speaking—lost consciousness.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was horrified that something like that could happen to me. Was I not a guardian angel, the protector, not the protected?

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said a bit more happily. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re still an angel. And you’re not the first that this has happened to. What you went through—watching Catherine walk right into the enemy’s hands—is difficult to endure. You experienced, on a minute scale, what He feels as He watches His children distance themselves from Him. He never loses hope, though.”

I bowed my head.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Forenica. Not one of us is perfect, yet. It is a marvelous labor in which we are engaged, but a difficult one.”

Then she put her arms around me and held me tight. “He’s abundantly pleased with you. Don’t you feel it?”

“At the moment, I can’t say I do,” I confessed.

“Try,” she coaxed.

I closed my eyes, and attempted to clear my mind of all my worries. Almost instantly, a warm rush of love came over me, like a great tidal wave. It confirmed to me Anawin’s confidence in me and His pleasure with my actions. Involuntarily, a smile formed on my face.

“You see? How marvelous it is that He can love such imperfect creatures as He does!”

“Now,” she began again, more earnestly. “There is something else you should know about Catherine. She is wounded. There is little need to discuss details. She did not totally abandon her morals. The Light which we kindled inside her did not completely fizzle out. Still, she will need healing. But thanks to you, that process has already begun.”

“I was up here, unconscious. What did I do?”

“You wept, my dear.”

I looked at her in confusion.

“That’s right, you shed tears. Tears so profound and full of love that they penetrated the veil which hides us from mortal eyes. On the sidewalk, below your face, those perfect tears fell and formed tiny puddles. When Catherine finally left the party, she stepped right into those puddles, and, at the same moment, looked up into the cloudless, star-flecked sky. In that singular instant she was connected to heaven in a miraculous way, and we jolted her with every ounce of heaven she could handle. Then it came. That saving grace of all emotions: remorse. She felt sorrow and pain for her actions.”

“You mean Catherine physically stepped into my tears on the sidewalk?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes. And they were as real there as anything in heaven. It was one of the sweetest miracles I have ever witnessed.”

“But how could that happen?”

“There is no
how
with God’s work—you know that. Suffice it to say, those tears of yours shall never be forgotten.”

“There is something else I wish to tell you,” Anawin continued. I wondered what else she could possibly have to tell me. Hadn’t there been enough surprises for one day? “The time has arrived for you to be promoted. From now on you will no longer labor as a junior guardian angel, but as a guardian angel.”

“What! After what happened last night I’m being promoted?”

“Yes, Forenica. You are more ready that you think.”

“Does this mean Clairus will not be with me?” She didn’t need to reply. I knew the answer. “I don’t think I’m ready for that. Especially after what happened last night.”

“What we think has little bearing on what is,” she said. Then pointing at something
on the ground behind me, “Look.” I turned around, and for the first time noticed our surroundings. We had walked into the glade to which Anawin had brought me after my first accounting. The vibrant sea of fire flowers danced contentedly in the wind. Along the path on which we stood, swaying among the other flowers, was my flower. A single delicate flame dangled from one of its tender limbs. It had been but a seedling the last time I saw it, indistinguishable as a flower, tree, or any other kind of plant. Now, among the thousands of different flowers in the garden, I knew this one was mine. In it I saw myself. Not that the flower bore any resemblance to my physical appearance, like a cloud can sometimes look like an elephant. Rather it reminded me of myself, like the smell of perfume elicits memories of mother, or hearing a long-forgotten song awakens memories of a dear friend.

“You’ve grown more than you realize,” Anawin said.

“Well, my flower has.”

“It only grows as fast as you grow. Don’t you remember?”

“I know. I just don’t feel like I’ve grown much.”

Anawin put her arm around me. “You have, my child. Glendor and I, and the others, are very proud of you. We know you’re ready.”

We stood for a moment without talking. My little flower continued bending in the breeze. It had grown quickly and beautifully. But my thoughts lingered on Clairus. I felt completely unprepared to leave her. I sighed. “So, Clairus will not go with me today?”

Anawin patted my back and shook her head.

Glancing once more at my flower, I turned and started for Angel Command. Anawin walked beside me. Her company brought me comfort in spite of my heavy thoughts. Before we reached the edge of the garden, we found the very person I desired most to see. Clairus stood just inside the border of the garden, under a tall evergreen. She did not move to meet us nor wave her hand in greeting, but stood silently looking in our direction.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Anawin said, touching my arm, then she disappeared from sight.

I walked over to Clairus. She smiled, but a touch of sadness was in her eyes. I didn’t know what to do but to hug her.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked.

“Oh...I was thinking about taking up golf,” she responded with her sly smile. I feigned a frown.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll be around.”

“Will I see you often?”

“As often as you like. Though probably not when you’re down on earth.” This time I frowned in earnest. “You’ll be fine without me. Just try not to pass out anymore.”

I laughed and threw my arms around her again. “Thank you,” I said.

“Thank
you
, Forenica, for being Angela’s guardian angel,” she said. And her voice was but a whisper. It was then that I decided to ask her something I had suspected for a while.

“Clairus, did you...were you Angela’s guardian before I came along?”

She stared deeply into my eyes. Then, with the faintest of smiles, she confirmed my suspicion.

“Was it difficult for you to give her up?”

“There’s nothing easy about what we do, Forenica.”

“I know. But don’t you worry about me messing things up?”

Clairus let out a soft laugh. “You couldn’t mess things up, even if you wanted to. It’s all between Him and Angela. We’re just tools in His hands. Besides, if I could have picked anyone to be Angela’s angel, I would have chosen you.

“Now, get moving,” she said, giving me a playful shove. “Angela needs you.”

I couldn’t help but give her another hug. To me it felt like we were parting for a long time. Though I knew that wasn’t true. There are no true goodbyes in heaven.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too, kid.”

Then I turned and headed along the path to Angel Command. After I had walked a short distance I heard Clairus call back to me. “By the way,
Glaven brought you back last night. He was particularly concerned about you.”

*   *   *

Although I keenly felt Clairus’ absence, I was glad to be back with Angela. As yet she remained unaware of Catherine’s Friday-night escapade. I wondered and worried about Catherine. For most of the day Catherine stayed shut up in her room. She and Angela had not had any contact. The morning and afternoon passed without much excitement, for which I gave thanks. I didn’t know how much I could handle on my first day without Clairus; certainly nothing like last night. In the end, things went quite the opposite direction.

God’s first gift, which Angela actually recognized as a blessing, came late that very afternoon. Just as she was contemplating what meager supper they would eat that night, a faint knock came at the door. Thinking that one of Kailey’s friends was looking for Kailey, she took her time answering it. She didn’t find a six-year-old girl waiting eagerly on the doorstep, though, but a large cardboard box. Angela looked around to see who had left it, but she saw no one—not even a car driving away.
Strange
, she thought,
who could have left this?
Perplexed, Angela bent down and picked up the box, took a last glance around and returned inside. The top of the box was open and contained a casserole dish and a large salad bowl, both foil-covered. As she walked over to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked food wafted into her nose. Her mouth began to water. She could hardly remember the last time she’d eaten something that smelled so delicious.

She placed the box on the table and lifted one corner of the foil. A light cloud of steam rose from the opening. The open corner revealed a sumptuous-looking lasagna. She peaked inside the large bowl. Fresh-baked rolls.

After getting over how good the food looked and how hungry it made her, she began to wonder who left it. Frankly, I wondered who brought it. Indeed, I wasn’t aware of any such plans. We hadn’t discussed anything of this sort in my last accounting. Whoever it was, though, I owed them a debt of gratitude. Lately Angela looked pale, and thinner than normal. I chided myself for not suggesting it.

I thought about the sweet soul who performed this small act of service. The scripture, “inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these..., ye have done it unto me,” came to my mind. I wanted to throw my arms around the person responsible!

“That looks tasty,” came Soren’s unmistakable voice from behind me.

“Soren, do you know anything about this?”

“I might know something,” he said with an impish smile, “and I might not.” And with that, he was gone.

“Well, that was less than helpful,” I muttered to myself. It appeared that I would have to wait to find out.

 

The second blessing came just as Angela finished setting the table for their lasagna-supper. Jack had been out for the better part of the afternoon, looking for employment—any kind of employment. Though he relished dinner-time much less these days, he was usually home in time for supper. He entered in through the kitchen wearing a smile on his face, and something obviously on his mind. But whatever it was he quickly forgot about it when he beheld the casserole dish on the table.

“Is that lasagna?” he asked, with no little surprise in his voice.

“It is.”

He cast a wary glance at Angela. “Did you go shopping today?”

“Nope.”

He looked at her even more skeptically.

BOOK: Diary of an Angel
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