By Malorie Shannon
Many a story has been written about angels. We feel their presence and heard about times when others have felt they have seen one.
When my children were little, one evening I remember seeing a lady in white floating over my child’s bed. There was also a time when I was woken to the sound of a voice telling me to “check the baby” only to find my child wrapped up in her blanket.
Coincidence… perhaps. I prefer to think of it as an angel watching over us.
I believe we all have an angel that watches over us. Perhaps helping us to a point to make the right decisions. Guiding us in a way. That little voice inside you of you that tells you right from wrong.
Over the years I have had the unusual thought as if I were the angel. Now I am hardly an angel but it is a thought that runs through my mind. Particularly when I am hearing or listening to something tragic or sad. It makes me feel very bad and I envision an angel, shoulders slumped, face caring and tear streaked, arms outstretched as if trying to reach out longing to make whatever better.
I feel she and I are one, she is my angel and yet she is a part of me. My empathy, my heart and caring. That part of me that feels deeply for family, friends, strangers and even the world.
Angels are indeed among us. They are a part of us. They walk our paths with us. They feel our sorrows, our happiness and hear our needs. We can draw strength from the knowledge that we are never alone.