Diary of an Angel Read online

  At that inopportune moment, Jack came in from the garage. He looked at Angela, then at the kitchen. “What happened in here?” Angela looked up, tear drops clinging to her cheeks. She held out the card for him to read. “Kailey was making me breakfast.”

  Jack looked at the card. “I don’t understand. What happened? Why are you crying?”

  In a subdued voice, she explained what had happened with Kailey. Jack made a nominal reply and left her alone.

  I put my arms around her and did my best to offer her comfort. I couldn’t take the pain away, though. Not yet, anyway. She would have to make things right with Kailey and with God before the real healing began.

  Angela sighed, wiped the tears from her face, then lifted herself from the table. “I need to go talk to her,” she said to herself.

  She did go make things right with Kailey. It was a beautiful scene. Kailey’s trusting little spirit was all too eager to accept her mother’s apology. After giving her daughter a few more bear hugs, Angela suggested that the two of them go finish making breakfast together. A suggestion which Kailey excitedly agreed to.

  Kailey and Angela made a delicious batch of pancakes. Kailey enjoyed herself immensely, but Angela was distracted. With the drama of Kailey’s morning surprise passed, Angela remembered that Jack wasn’t supposed to be home and couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. She decided that it would be best to find out after breakfast.

  Together mother and daughter ate their pancakes, cleaned up, before Angela sent Kailey off to play. As she watched Kailey run off, she thought how glad she would be when school started again. She loved her children. Having them at home all the time, though, wore her out—especial that one.

  Her thoughts returned to Jack.

  She set out to look for him, hoping to find him alone. It did not take long to find anyone in their small one-story home. He was sitting on their bed reading the newspaper, when she discovered him. Apparently, he had no intention of hiding from her; else he would have chosen a better hideout. He did not look up from his paper when she entered the room.

  Angela posted herself in front of the doorway, as if to bar any escape. Though making breakfast with Kailey helped improve her mood, she wasn’t prepared to respond with understanding to whatever Jack would tell her.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” she asked, in a casual, but still accusatory tone. Oh, Angela, I thought, did you have to ask it quite like that?

  Jack looked up at her, contemplating how to respond. Glaven stood by, urging him to keep his composure. He ignored him, and his face hardened. “Because I don’t have a job, that’s why.” retorted Jack.

  “What! What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t have a job anymore,” he repeated irritably.

  “Did you get fired?”

  “No. Laid off.”

  “What! Why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it...there’s nothing to talk about. I lost my job—end of story.” Jack resumed looking at the paper, pretending to read.

  “Well, what are we going to do? Why aren’t you looking for another job?”

  Jack slapped the paper down on the bed and glared at her. “What do you think I’m doing!” Then he stood up. “You know, why don’t you go find a job?”

  “Me!”

  “Well, you’re the one who seems to have everything figured out. If you need any references, I’m sure the children would be glad to provide them.”

  This was too much for Angela, and she didn’t know how to respond to Jack’s cruel sarcasm. She was mad enough to punch him in the nose. With clenched fists and gritted teeth she retreated from the ugly battle, slamming the door as hard as she could behind her.

  VI

  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 feelings 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 have 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 quite 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.
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  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 to do. It was time to meet Lily.

  VII

  LILY

  All 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.