ANGELS WITHOUT WINGS

We see them as winged messengers, companions, comforters and guardians thanks to the artist’s vision and the poet’s lyrical description. But angels, in reality, can be quite different!

I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably say it a thousand times more – hubby loved Christmas. It soon became a tradition with us to acquire at least one new decoration to mark each Christmas that we shared.  Nieces and nephews chipped in and added to our growing cache with the loveliest baubles from far and near.  Each year, these would be unwrapped and placed on the tree or mantelpiece and, after Christmas, lovingly cleaned, rewrapped, and replaced in their special containers, as good as new. We knew each and every decoration, their provenance and recalled the memories with joy. It’s now almost three years since hubby bid goodbye and Christmas will never be the same because the significance of our ‘little collection’ was in the sharing, as was the urge to add yet another piece. I let everyone know, accordingly.   Yet, somehow, from an unexpected somewhere, a fresh Christmas memory has faithfully arrived!

Apparently my own special angel is doing overtime on the job. And earthbound angels are being equally industrious in making the connection!

This year I have received (yes, already!) an adorable snowman. He’s a cookie jar, as fragile as the ‘snow’ he’s made of.  He will not melt, but he can break.  Yet he made it across the miles from Canada, carefully transported in a suitcase thanks to one of the many angels in my life.

And this angel plays the harp (read drums and keyboard) too, with glorious rhythm and melody!

So, when October 2 comes around, I’ll be whispering a special prayer for angels seen and unseen, known and unknown – a thanksgiving prayer for the gentle benison their presence brings.

THE SMALLEST OF MIRACLES

The life of one may seem insignificant to another and ditto for the events in said life.  But when viewed with an uncommon vision, how wonderful those events can be!

A friend reminded me of this the other day.  She pointed out that when a hungry child begs, it does so with hope. And when a handout (particularly of the edible kind) answers that ‘prayer’, for that child it is a miracle.

Then take the events in my own not so insignificant life (that’s my opinion!).

A rat had found its way into my home thanks to the climbing frame of pipes outside my window.  I did my best to evict it, but all efforts at polite persuasion failed to work.   I turned to the Lord – the rat may be part of God’s creation but it is one part that I could do without. I told Him so. And then the ‘trap’, which had not worked till my fervent plea, held my furry enemy within its sticky grip. I offered thanks and got the watchman to place the rat in its rightful place in the food chain (yes, my opinion again).

When it rains heavily, one room is awash thanks to some destructive repair work.  I get down on hands and knees and change the ‘flood’ to ‘merely damp floor’ and offer thanks that I am still limber enough to grapple with the task.  Then it rained heavily for two consecutive days and I sent up an ‘admonition’ – how much strenuous exercise is a little old lady supposed to indulge in? Yes, the room remained bone dry! A miracle? For me, definitely!

I was raised to be polite and I believe in saying ‘Thank You’.  Pouring rain is however quite a deterrent to stepping out even to visit the House of God.  I rose, I ‘shined’ and donned my waterproof, with a little bit of ‘should I, shouldn’t I’ turning over in my mind.  The pour turned to a drip! Just for me? I guess so and for all those others who turned up for morning Mass - a time to share praise and worship, expectation and thanks. A time of reinforced faith in a time that breeds despair.

The smallest, most insignificant of positives can add up to make one realise that miracles happen when we pray.  Dare we ask for even bigger things? Like ‘peace’? Like ‘no child hungry’? Like ‘a love that makes the whole world one family’?

I dare! How about you?