I have always had a thing for angels. I’m sure it’s rooted in the catholic upbringing I had. I remember we had a painting (well, a copy of a painting) of a little girl praying with an angel watching over her. I loved that painting. Regardless of your religious beliefs, it’s nice to imagine that there are spiritual creatures watching over us.
Many years ago when my mom passed away, my sisters and I were in Yosemite. My mom had been sick for a while but she had insisted that we not postpone our trip, so when the early morning call came telling us she had died, it was upsetting, but not exactly a surprise. I remember stepping outside and feeling that I was surrounded by confirmation that there is something beyond the here and now. The sheer beauty of my surroundings was so overwhelming.
Plans to return home were made quickly and as luck would have it, a few hours into our drive, out in the middle of nowhere, our car had a flat tire. Picture if you will three blondes standing on the side of the road saying “Oh come on!” Out of nowhere this old couple appeared. They got out of a car that I promise you had not been there before and while the wife assured us her husband would have the spare tire on for us in no time, the man pulled out a jack and went to work. Greatly relieved, we thanked them profusely and then said goodbye. We climbed back into the car, looked up and they were gone. There was no sound of doors closing (other than our own) and no noise of an engine driving off, they were just gone as magically as they had appeared.
Is it any wonder I have chosen to live here in the city of angels?