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For Christmas: The Angel Mercy
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  1. #1

    7 For Christmas: The Angel Mercy

    While I struggle thru the rest of chap. 4, I would like to share with you this never published, (not for lack of trying), classic from a writer called P. I. Volkens.
    If you took the Denver Post back in the late 70's and early 80's, you knew Phyllis I. Volkens. Her byline appeared in the paper several times a month. She was in the world wide edition of Readers Digest, twice.

    Her work has appeared in four of the Chicken Soup for the Soul Series as well as in other publications around the country. Phyllis passed away from cancer in 1996.

    Now for the legal jumbo: story and its re-edit from 2006 are protected with registered copywrite. Any attempt to re-post, publish et al will be met with incredible anger and lawsuit from the estate of P.I. Volkens.
    "Why not stay awake now? Who wants to sleep now with so much happening, so much to see? Life used to be dull you see...and you don't have to sleep alone, you don't even have to sleep at all; and so, all you have to do is show the stick to the dog now and then and say, 'Thank God for nothing.'"

    Drusilla, "The UNVANQUISHED. William Faulkner

  2. #2

    The Angel Mercy

    THE ANGEL MERCY


    Breathless with anticipation and wonder, Celeste took her place in the forming ranks of countless angels, trying very carefully not to brush her new and yet unfamiliar wings against anyone else’s. Already, she had discovered that ruffled wings didn’t fly very well and although she tried so hard to remember how to maneuver those lovely fluffs of white, she was still a novice in the area of flight performance.

    Unfortunately, that wasn’t her only problem. Not only did the realms of Heaven expect you to soar like a bird, but you were also required to sing while you were doing it! Even though she had been trying very hard for all of the three weeks since she had arrived in the shinning world of eternity, she still found that if she tried to sing and fly at the same time, she was continually grazing against other angels and ruffling their wing tips. Although everyone was very kind about it, smiling at her as they deftly shook and smoothed out those mounds of fluff, Celeste still felt clumsy and foolish and wondered if she would ever be able to do what everyone else seemed to accomplish so effortlessly.

    She sighed and a worried look passed over the features of her young face. She tugged down at the folds of her shiny white garment and reached up to pat the dark auburn shower of curls that covered her shoulders. Unconsciously, she captured one glossy curl and twirled it over her finger. Being a very young angel, having lived only 19 earth years, and still being so new in heaven, not only was she a novice at flying, but she also seemed to be quite lacking in the area of singing talent.

    On her second day in Heaven, she had been directed to the choir lofts in order that Melanie, the Grand Mistress of the choirs, could hear her singing voice and assign her a place in the choir for new, young women angels.

    “Now, Celeste, “Melanie had said gently, “here is the music. Simply listen and then you will sing what I have just sung.”

    Then Melanie opened her mouth and glorious sounds had flowed forth, so beautiful that Celeste stood spell-bound. Music in hand, wings askew and eyes wide, she had gazed in wonder at the at the choir director. Melanie gently detached her voice from the last fading note and then said to Celeste,
    “Now you sing the phrase.”

    Celeste looked at Melanie in astonishment. She? Sing that? Her singing voice was just and ordinary sound that no one had noticed or cared about that is except for the children.

    She closed her eyes and thought of them, her younger brothers and sisters. She remembered how they would settle down around her on benches or on the floor while the smallest one would climb into her lap.

    “Sing for us, Celeste”, they would ask, “please sing us a song!”

    So she had sung, filling the afternoon hours with music, delighting the little ones who didn’t care if her notes were true or her tone was clear. They cared only that she smiled as she sang the songs they loved and taught them the words so they could sing along.

    “Celeste?” Melanie’s voice had been gentle, “please sing the phrase.”

    “Yes, Ma’am,” Celeste had replied wishing with all her heart that she were back home singing for the children instead of here in Heaven before this stately angel. Hesitantly she cleared her throat and then very softly tried to sing the phrase that Melanie had sung. Her timid voice slid around and over the notes and, sometimes, nervously slipped in between, until she approached the high tones and then her voice squeaked and came to an abrupt stop.

    “Hmm-mm-m, “Melanie had pondered, “I see. Well-l-l, why don’t you sing something you know and I’ll just listen.”

    Celeste stood before the choir director feeling very small and inadequate. Her stomach felt all in knots and her heart felt too heavy for her wings to hold up.

    “Come now, “Melanie had gently urged, “Surely you remember some song from your life on earth. Perhaps you had a favorite, one you sang often?”

    Oh, yes, Ma’am!” Celeste’s cheeks had flushed and her dark eyes glowed with warmth,
    “I know a lullaby. I sang it to my baby. I didn’t get to hold him very long or be with him, but what little time I was there, I held him and sang to him and…” her voice trailed away as the brief memory of her baby overwhelmed her. Her eyes dropped downward and her dark lashes came to rest on her cheeks.

    “Oh my, you’re the new Mother aren’t you?” Melanie’s eyes turned tender, “The one who came to us one week after your baby was born!” Oh, my dear!” With a rustle of gown and wings, Melanie moved to embrace the young mother.

    “There my child,” she murmured as she stroked the young angel’s hair, “it must be very difficult for you to leave your baby.”

    Celeste had nodded mutely.

    Melanie continued, “My dear, this is undoubtedly all strange and new to you, but you will come to feel at home here.”

    The dark curls shook slowly to and fro.

    “My baby,” Celeste whispered, “I love him so…”

    Melanie had held the girl’s face in her hands and looked at her tenderly.

    “Believe me, Celeste,” she replied wisely, “your sorrow will turn to great joy one day, you’ll see.”
    Then with a gentle smile, she added, “Now, enough of singing for today. You come back tomorrow at the appointed time and we’ll find a place for you.”

    The next day, Celeste had shyly entered the choir lofts and was directed to a place, far up in the back row on the end of the line. Hovering there, looking over the great mass of gathering angels, she felt very lonely until with a swirl of wings and a burst of giggles, a plump, fiery haired angel dropped into place beside her.

    “Hello!” she sang out, “My name’s Rebecca! You’re new here aren’t you?

    Without waiting for a reply, the plump angel gushed on,

    “We’re up here you know, because we can’t sing very well. In fact,” Rebecca looked around from to side to side then lowered her voice to a whisper,
    “I can’t sing at all!”
    This brought forth a fresh burst of giggles that made her round form shake and shimmy.

    “Did you ever hear of an angel that couldn’t sing?”

    Celeste shook her head slowly and, for the first time since arriving in the great and splendid avenues of Heaven, a small smile grazed across her face as she observed the freckle faced Rebecca who seemed to bubble over with joy.

    “What’s your name?” Rebecca asked.

    “Celeste.”

    Oh, how pretty, what a lovely name for an angel!”

    On the word, “Angel”, Rebecca furled her wings up and down and giggled again.

    “Just think, me, an angel! I keep wondering if there’s been a mistake. I mean, one minute I was climbing a ladder up to the loft then everything fell away and then I was here! Just like that!”

    “Do you like it?” Celeste wanted to know.

    Rebecca brightened considerably.

    “Oh, it’s wonderful! I have this beautiful gown, and I don’t have to weave cloth any more, or milk the goats or sweep the floors but best of all,” her face lit up with delight, “I have these marvelous, beautiful wings! And I can fly, just like an…an…angel!” And even Celeste had started to laugh.

    By the time choir practice was finished Celeste was smiling and relaxed although neither she nor Rebecca could sing one whit better than when they had started.

    Melanie had been patient with both of them, bringing the entire choir to a note-dying halt only once; to tell Rebecca that if she would look at her music instead of gazing at the galaxy, then she might be able to sing with the rest of them. And, furthermore, just because she was on the back row and had more room, it was no reason to furl and unfurl her wings in time to the music, even if she had finally mastered the technique.

    “We do not do things like that in the young woman’s choir, “Melanie had intoned in her gentle, yet stately voice, “It’s most un-angel like!”

    “Yes, Ma’am, “Rebecca murmured demurely, and then her spontaneous giggles had come bubbling forth, completely altering her hard-sought angel image.

    Oh, it was good to be placed next to Rebecca. Her smiles and giggles were infectious, easing the loneliness Celeste felt whenever she remembered her newborn son and the handsome husband she admired. Soon, the two had made friends.

    Rebecca may not have been able to sing like an angel, but true to her word, she could certainly fly like one and she was eager to help Celeste master the technique.

    “See,” she would call, soaring upward and doing a pirouette in space with her arms outstretched and long flaming hair flying, “It’s easy!” she would shout, “and it’s so much fun!”
    Her laughter would float off into space like so many sliver bells rolling down golden staircases.

    Celeste would try, spreading her soft, downy wings, practicing turns and swoops and aiming for smooth landings. But these turned out, more often than not, to be awkward. She was still trying to sing and fly simultaneously but the endeavor left her either bumping into the giggling Rebecca or forgetting the words or the tune.

    Smoothing down her lovely wings after mid-air collisions only reminded her of her baby’s soft cheeks and feathery hair and then she would become very quiet.

    “It’s all right,” Rebecca had soothed, “it takes a while. You should have seen me the first time I tried to fly backwards,” and she started to giggle.

    “What happened?” Celeste was eager to find anything else to focus on other than her memories.

    “Well, I started out nice and slow, and then I thought I was doing so well that I started picking up speed. And that was so much fun, I flew even faster, but I didn’t notice where I was going and it wasn’t until I knocked over the first harp that I realized: I had flown into the middle of the advanced harp ensemble practice! Oh, you should have seen it!” Rebecca’s green eyes sparkled with mirth at the memory of it.

    “Harps were falling everywhere, one against another, and the harpists were trying to catch them and wing tips were hitting the strings and the sounds and commotion sounded just like earth!”

    “What happened then?” Celeste giggled, forgetting for a moment to think about her baby’s soft cheeks and pudgy fists.

    “Well, I…” Rebecca furled one wing forward and started absent-mindedly to play with its tip,
    “I…ah…I had to appear before the Mother of Angels.”

    “Oh, no!” Celeste gasped, her dark eyes widening, “What was it like?”

    Rebecca furled the other wing forward and began flicking stardust from the puffs.

    “Well, I was real worried at first, I mean, after all! The Mother of the Angels! I was afraid that she would do something drastic like take away my gorgeous wings!”

    Rebecca drew both wings tips close to her as if to protect them.

    “Oh, but she was so nice and understanding! She smiled at me and she was just like…just like a Mother!” Rebecca let go her wings and her face shone at the memory.

    “So, what happened?”

    “Well, she talked to me a long time about trying to be more angel-like and controlling my giggles. Then she said that if I would stop doing back flips, I guess there had been a few complaints about that, some of the more stately angels thought that I was messing up the angel image.”

    “Anyway, Mother Angel said if I’d stop doing that, I could keep flying, even backward if I felt like it, but only if I kept watching where I was going. And to never, never fly in the area of harp practice again. And then do you know what she said?” The young angel furled and unfurled her wings with glee, “She said she had been a new angel once and she remembered what it was like and sometimes she wished that she could turn a few back flips herself, only she preferred big loops!”

    “Oh, Rebecca!” Celeste had laughed, “It’s so good to be with you!”

    But Celeste couldn’t be with Rebecca every moment and there were times when she still sought out a quiet window in heaven in order to be alone with her thoughts. That’s where she had been when an older angel had flown up, calling for her to hurry to the choir lofts for everyone was supposed to be there.
    "Why not stay awake now? Who wants to sleep now with so much happening, so much to see? Life used to be dull you see...and you don't have to sleep alone, you don't even have to sleep at all; and so, all you have to do is show the stick to the dog now and then and say, 'Thank God for nothing.'"

    Drusilla, "The UNVANQUISHED. William Faulkner

  3. #3

    Angel Mercy part 2

    Celeste had flown after her and now here she was, far up in the back row of row upon row of heaven’s angels. There were huge numbers of them and yet more were arriving every minute until the mass of wings looked as one gigantic, incredible thunderhead cloud of puffy white.

    Celeste was becoming anxious. What oh what were they assembling for? Everyone seemed so exuberant! The harpists and flutists were joining them now too, gathering in clusters far down in front. Melanie looked radiant, flying everywhere at once. Did this mean they were going to sing? Celeste gulped softly. She wasn’t sure she knew all the words yet and she certainly hoped they didn’t have to fly while they sang; she could never handle all of that!

    With a rush, Rebecca swirled into place beside her, her very freckles beaming with excitement.

    “Oh, isn’t it wonderful!” She grabbed Celeste and hugged her. “Isn’t it just grand?”

    “What?” Celeste was truly perplexed. “What’s grand?

    “Haven‘t you heard? Goodness, where have you been? Honestly, Celeste, left to yourself you just don’t keep up on anything! It’s tonight! Tonight’s the night!” Rebecca’s voice ended in a shrill squeak and she bounced up and down in place like the young girl she still was.

    “What night?”

    “What night?!” Rebecca stared at Celeste in disbelief, “Why, it’s the night all Heaven is talking about, the night all eternity will never forget! This is the night the Christ child will be born!

    “And just think, “Rebecca clasped Celeste’s hands in hers and twirled the two of them around in circles, “we get to be there!”

    “We do?” Celeste broke away from her friend and stopped twirling.

    “Do you mean the Savior, the son of God? He is to be born this night?”

    “Yes!” Rebecca’s fiery head was bouncing up and down, “And the young woman’s choir gets to be part of the group to tell the good news. We’re going to sing! Melanie’s so excited, she’s forgotten I can’t carry a tune and she told me to take my place.”

    “A baby born,” Celeste’s mind was spinning, tumbling in memories, remembering the things of earth. Remembering her own baby she had held such a short time ago, held so tenderly and so briefly.

    “We’ll get to be right there,” Rebecca went on, “I heard Melanie telling the lead singers we’re going to sing to some shepherds out in the fields. Can you imagine? When I was on earth and tending the goats, if a whole choir of angels had dropped out of nowhere and started singing to me…I would have fainted!”

    “But, the baby!” Celeste clasped Rebecca’s shoulders to hold her still.
    “Do we get to see the baby?”

    Rebecca shrugged.

    “I don’t know. I just know that we follow the row in front of us and start singing when Melanie gives us the signal.”

    Celeste’s heart was pounding in her ears. The baby, she just had to see the baby! It was an overwhelming longing within her. Oh, if only for a brief flicker of time in the immense stretches of eternity, she wanted once more to see a baby. If she couldn’t see her own, then why not the Christ child? Wasn’t he born for everyone? And weren’t angels also everyone?


    “Rebecca,” Celeste announced, “I want to see the Christ child!”

    Rebecca clasped her friend’s hand, “If we fly where he is I’m sure you will.”

    Celeste shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. I mean, even if we don’t fly there, I still want to see him!”

    Rebecca stopped smiling and looked closely at her friend.

    “But, Celeste, you can’t fly in earth skies unless it’s been decreed. We only go to earth on missions and then we only go where we are told! You just don’t take off and…”

    At that instant, great chords of celestial music began to tremor throughout the realms of heaven and the angels became quiet and orderly, preparing themselves for flight. Celeste was also quiet but when the glorious music faded away and Melanie began to tell them of their flight plans and their missions, Celeste’s hopes soared upward.

    For Melanie was telling them that out of all the spinning stars in the vastness of the universe, there would be one special star, a star of such brilliance and glory that its radiance would make all other stars appear as mere flickering candles against the darkness. This star was to be their guide and it was in position over the very spot where the Christ child was to be born!

    As Melanie went on, a plan formed in Celeste’s mind. Now she knew how to find the Christ child! She would simply drop down when they were close to the star and find for herself what part of the earth it was positioned over and there would be the baby. How simple, how wonderful! Her joy bubbled upward and quivered her wing tips. She was going to once more see a baby just like the son she had left behind. The thought was like a flame within her, bursting forth and warming her being, wrapping her in a cloak of contentment.

    With a thunder of glorious sound and a rush of wings, the great gathering of angels soared upward as a group and then began the flight toward earth, Melanie, the harpists and the flutes in the lead, the others following in formation behind with Rebecca and Celeste at the end of the last row.

    Downward they winged, through vast corridors of massive, cloud columns sitting upon space and rising to eternity. There was row upon endless row of these columns then bursts of sparkling sapphire skies which swept onward to other stately corridors. As far as Celeste could see, the horizons were filled with clouds in various shades of white and blues, tans and pinks all edged with shinning light. The clouds seemed to part of their own accord as the choirs of angels descended.

    Never had Celeste seen such beauty, such glory. She had a sudden urge to fly outward into the side corridors, to see what was behind a far flung cloud, to view the endless vistas that surely awaited her on the other side. But she remembered her plan and kept close to Rebecca, concentrating on keeping up with the flying pace of the angels.

    On singing winds, they rode the air currents downward until far ahead, Celeste could see a vast and spreading darkness.

    “What’s that?” she whispered to Rebecca.

    “What’s that?” repeated Rebecca, “Why, it’s the earth sky! Don’t you remember?”


    With a start, Celeste remembered that earth had a night time. Then they were immersed in a darkness that was hung with flaming stars, jetting out their sparks of fire with bursts of radiance against the blackness. Celeste was awe struck with wonder. So this is what the sky looked like from the top side!
    Downward through the night they flew, until far off in the distance, Celeste could see one flaming star which made all the others seem like mere pinpricks of light against the blackness. Her heart leaped with joyous anticipation. Under that guiding star was the baby! A real baby with soft and fragrantly sweet skin. A darling baby to cuddle in your arms and fill your heart with overflowing happiness.

    Closer and closer to earth until she could see the outlines of distant hills and the tops of date palms and olive groves. All the remembrances of earth stirred within her being. With a rush of sweetness she remembered the lushness of ripening fields and sun-dappled trees, the smells of flowers and the juiciness of grapes, and most of all, her love for a husband and child.

    Now they were skimming over a small town and over in one spot in that cluster of buildings there radiated the flaming star. It beckoned to Celeste with a power that transcended every fiber of her being. She was going to see the Christ child!

    But wait, they were shifting, flying to the side of the village, going on to the open fields. No, they couldn’t! She couldn’t fly onward and not see the Christ child! No! She didn’t care about telling good news to shepherds and singing gloriously. She wanted to kneel by the side of a baby’s bed and once more experience the joy of earthly life.

    With a thrust of her wings, she turned from the orderly group and started toward the star. In her turning, she brushed Rebecca’s wings. With a start, Rebecca turned her head to glance at her friend and was astonished to see Celeste flying away from the choir and dropping toward the tree tops.

    “She’s coming in beautifully!” Rebecca thought and was about to cheer for her friend when she suddenly remembered what Celeste was about to do was very much against the rules!

    “Celeste!” she cried out, “You can’t, you mustn’t!” With a powerful burst of speed, Rebecca covered the space between them.

    “Come now”, she reached out and grasped Celeste’s arm, “we have to get back to the choirs before we’re noticed!”

    “NO!” Celeste cried and shook free of Rebecca’s hand.

    “Celeste!” It was a panic cry from the poor angel as she tried desperately to slow Celeste’s downward glide.
    “It’s not permitted; we have to stay with the others!”

    But Celeste succeeded in breaking free and with a small puff of dust, stood once more with her feet on earth.

    The yearning deep within her soul was like an encompassing force that compelled Celeste to hurry toward the stable opening in the hillside where an oil lamp cast a feeble glow and the glorious star glowed steadily overhead.

    “Celeste! No!!” Rebecca was gliding frantically beside her, hanging onto her friend’s arm, pulling backward with all her might, slowing Celeste’s steps.

    Celeste suddenly came to a halt and turned to gaze directly into Rebecca’s frightened eyes.

    “I am here to see the Christ child and I will! And you will not stop me. You fly on with the choirs but I am staying here. Now, let go of my arm.”

    With a trembling sigh, Rebecca dropped her arms to her sides, drooped her wings and watched in frustration as Celeste covered the short distance to the crude shelter.

    Looking up, Rebecca could see the band of angels in the distance. She knew where they were and knew that she could still fly back into place and scarcely be missed. But, what of Celeste? If left to herself, could she find her way back? What would become of her and honestly! What on earth had gotten into her?

    With a gasp, Rebecca realized, of course! The earth had gotten into her! There was a rule: no angel could undertake an earth mission until they had dwelt for one year of earth time within the heavenly courts. In all the excitement of this glorious night, no one had remembered that!

    “Oh, mercy, mercy!” cried Rebecca to the soft night air. “Of course! She’s so fresh from earth that it calls her back! Oh, my! There’s no telling what she’ll do!”

    With a frantic glance to the shining cloud in the distance, Rebecca hurried toward the stable. Someone had to protect Celeste!
    "Why not stay awake now? Who wants to sleep now with so much happening, so much to see? Life used to be dull you see...and you don't have to sleep alone, you don't even have to sleep at all; and so, all you have to do is show the stick to the dog now and then and say, 'Thank God for nothing.'"

    Drusilla, "The UNVANQUISHED. William Faulkner

  4. #4

    Angel Marcy part 3

    Celeste stood in the shadows of the night and looked with awe and love at the two people within the stable. A young woman, not much younger than her own earthly self, was lying on her side on a mound of straw. A man was kneeling by her side, holding her hands with one of his and stroking her forehead with the other and talking to her in low tones. All of Celeste’s being reached out in compassion to the girl in the last stages of child birth.

    “Joseph,” whispered the girl with great effort, “do you have the place ready for the baby?”

    “Yes, Mary, yes,” he soothed, “right over there in the manager. I’ve mounded up the straw and laid out the cloths. It’s all ready.”

    So intent were the young couple with their great happening, they never noticed as Celeste glided past them to view for herself the place for the baby. When she saw it, her heart turned over. Place a newborn baby there? On those coarse cloths covering rough straw? With a rush, she remembered her own baby’s birth. Her Mother and Aunts, sure and strong with knowledge had been at her side. She remembered the soft linen materials they had wrapped around her son and the cushioned place to lay him down. Oh, this would never do! You couldn’t place a baby in such a bed! A newborn, Christ child or not, needed sweetness and comfort!

    With a consuming concern, she glanced around the crude surroundings. Surely there must be something she could use to soften the bed for the baby. The young couple was very busy now, Joseph doing all he could to help. She wanted to help too but nowhere could she see anything to use for the manger bed.

    “Celeste!” It was Rebecca at her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

    Celeste whirled around, “Oh, Rebecca, look at the bed for the baby. It won’t do, it’s not right! They need something soft in there, something…”

    Celeste stopped in mid-sentence and starred at Rebecca’s beautiful wings. Like a splash of sunshine, joy flooded Celeste’s face.

    “Wings! Why of course, my wings!”

    With a flourish, she swirled her own wings forward and hastily began to pluck the soft and downy fluffs from them, piling them lightly on the waiting bed of the Christ child.

    Horror-stricken, Rebecca pressed her hands to her mouth to keep from crying out.

    “No, no, oh, mercy, no!” she gasped, “You mustn’t destroy your wings! They are your gift from God and without them you can’t fly! Oh, Celeste, stop! Listen to me! Without your wings, you cannot re-enter heaven!”

    Rebecca was crying aloud now, clutching at the hands of her friend. The young couple never noticed for the by now, the girl was deep in her own cries and the husband heard only the needs of his wife.

    “That’s enough now! You’ve done enough! For pity’s sake, leave some for yourself!” Rebecca pleaded.

    With a passion born of love, Celeste ignored Rebecca’s cries. With increasing speed, she continued to pull out the fluffs of down until the bed was piled high with glistening whiteness. Then, taking her hands, she shaped an indentation in the mound making a bed of purest softness for the Christ child.

    Rebecca was beside herself. “Melanie, I must find Melanie!” She cried. And with a whoosh of air, she flew from the stable and rose up into the sky.

    Suddenly, the night was alive with the cry of a newborn: loud, healthy, lusty cries of life. The new Father was laughing and crying at the same time, the new Mother was murmuring words of love to the child, her tears of pain now tears of sheer joy. Together, the new parents marveled over the child, this gift of life, their son.

    Celeste observed it all and her heart overflowed with remembrance and love. She stood quietly in the shadows and her love for the couple and their baby glowed a warmth within the night.

    “You need to wrap him, Joseph, “the young woman said softly.

    Tenderly, the young man wrapped the babe and rose to place him in the place he had prepared. Crooning softly to the baby, he gently placed him in the bed, never noticing how the resting place had changed or the slender young girl in white standing just within the shadows of the night.

    “Joseph…Joseph!” There was alarm in Mary’s voice and her husband turned and hurried back to her side.

    Softly, Celeste stepped forward and very slowly bent down to see the precious baby in the manager. Oh, how lovely he was! One chubby fist had worked its way free from the swaddling cloths and was waving busily in the air. His eyes were bright and alert, wide open to the sights around him.
    “How strange for a newborn”, thought Celeste, “Oh, but how precious he is, how beautiful!”

    As Celeste bent in awe and wonder, the waving little fist stopped momentarily and then somehow the baby’s fist found contact with his sweet, pink baby mouth and the Christ child, very unmistakably, began to fuss.

    “Oh, my,” Celeste whispered, “quick, someone pick him up and comfort him!”

    But there were no clucking aunts or Grandmothers to see to the child, just the young couple, the husband giving all his attention to his wife, and Celeste.

    The fussing was growing louder and Celeste was growing more concerned. Finally, without thinking, she reached out and took hold of the chubby fist in her fingers. Very softly, she began to sing the lullaby she had sung to her own child. Her voice was sweet with love and as the simple little lullaby curled around the manger bed, the baby stopped fussing. He fixed his lovely eyes upon her face and listened to her singing. Slowly, a beautiful smile lighted the baby’s face and inside the humble stable could be heard the first gurgles and cooing of the Christ child.

    Celeste stepped back into the night shadows just as Joseph arose, came to the manager and tenderly carried the now contented newborn babe back to the waiting arms of his Mother.

    With joy in her heart, the angel turned and slowly walked away toward the open fields. It was enough. She had seen the Christ child. She had once more touched a baby. She had crooned a lullaby, created a bed of softness and turned fussing into laughter. It was enough to comfort the mother portion of her soul for the rest of eternity.

    Looking up, she saw the gleaming cloud bank of wings shimmering in the night sky. Very faintly, she heard the sound of such glorious, heart-stopping music that the very hills seemed to bow down.

    With a rush, she remembered the choirs and how she had better fly back and rejoin them before anyone else noticed her missing. With a surge of strength, she lifted her wings, stood on tip-toe to the star-studded heavens and went…nowhere!

    What was wrong? Why was she still standing on the dusty ground? Again she tried and again she failed and then, very slowly, she furled her wings forward and for the first time, realized her plight. Almost all of the lovely fluff of her wings was gone! Bare and limp they hung, no longer able to lift and hold her in flight. Then Rebecca’s words came whispering back to her,

    “Without your wings, you cannot re-enter heaven!”

    Oh, what had she done? What would happen to her? In fear and growing panic she stumbled toward a nearby olive tree, leaned her head against the trunk and trembled as sobs choked her throat and hot tears washed down her face and neck.
    "Why not stay awake now? Who wants to sleep now with so much happening, so much to see? Life used to be dull you see...and you don't have to sleep alone, you don't even have to sleep at all; and so, all you have to do is show the stick to the dog now and then and say, 'Thank God for nothing.'"

    Drusilla, "The UNVANQUISHED. William Faulkner

  5. #5

    Angel Mercy Part 4

    It was here that Rebecca and Melanie found her, crying in the night.

    Instantly, Melanie gathered the broken angel into her arms, placed the dark head of tumbled curls on her shoulder and tried to comfort to her.

    “Oh, Celeste, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”, crooned Melanie, “You should never have been allowed to come tonight. It was too soon, I should have checked to see if any new ones were in the formation. Oh, it’s all my fault; you never should have left heaven so quickly after arriving.”

    “Melanie!” whispered Rebecca, “Melanie, look at her face! Those are tears! She’s crying tears!”
    Rebecca’s eyes widened in alarm as anxiously, Melanie lifted Celeste’s face to the starlight. Both of them gasped to see the tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

    “Ohhhhh,” the stately angel’s voice was a whisper in the night.

    “How? How?” persisted Rebecca, “How can she possibly cry? Angels don’t cry!”

    With great sadness, Melanie replied quietly,
    “Because without her eternal wings, she is no longer of heaven. She is once more of earth. Oh, my dear child”, she whispered as she tried in vain to wipe the tears away”, you can no longer re-enter heaven.”

    “No! NO!” cried Rebecca, “That can’t be! We can’t leave her here, there must be a way!”

    Her eyes were bright and frantic. “I know,” Rebecca rushed to Celeste’s side and slid her arm about the slender waist, “we’ll lift her up between us! We’ll fly her back. Somehow we’ll manage…”

    “No.” Celeste’s voice was quiet but firm.

    “I gave my wings for the baby’s bed and I am not sorry. It was my own choice.”
    Her eyes shone bright with determination. “I just couldn’t bear to see the Christ child without a decent bed.”

    Suddenly the very atmosphere changed. A great stillness settled over the land and the darkness was swept away. It was as if the flaming star that hung over the stable had abruptly dropped down and washed the land and all within it in a shinning light. Then from the light there came a voice, its tone so full of compassion that Celeste felt as if a cloak of love and tenderness had been swirled around her, covering her from the top of her head to the soles of her dusty feet, filling her with such peace that her soul overflowed with gladness.

    “Celeste,” said a voice, “I am your heavenly Father.”

    Celeste stood rooted in place, utterly lost in wonder, unable to move or speak.

    “Celeste, do you hear me?” The voice was pure love that melted away her astonishment and gave her courage to speak.

    “Yes, Father“, whispered Celeste, “I hear you.”

    “Fly over here to me, Celeste.”1

    “I…I can’t.”

    “Why can’t you?” inquired God kindly.

    “Because,” she took a deep breath but her heart went as limp as her wings,
    “because I cannot fly.”

    “All angels fly”.

    In reply, Celeste furled forward the bare frames of what had once been her lovely wings. Tiny patches of fluff still dangled here and there. From one of them, a tiny feather blew away.
    It flipped and slipped in lazy circles within the air and then landed sadly in the dust at her feet.

    “Your wings are my eternal gift to you, my child. Why would you destroy them? There was no reproach in that voice, only compassion and concern.

    With a rush of words, Celeste tried to explain.

    “Oh, Father, I wanted to see the baby, a baby like my baby, and when I saw the bed that had been fixed for him, oh, my dear Father! It looked so coarse and rough, of course the young man had done what he could with what he had but it wasn’t fit for a baby! Especially not your baby, not the Christ child.

    Celeste raised her face to the light, fresh tears filling her eyes as she continued,

    “I wanted to fix it, make it better but I couldn’t find anything and then…then I remembered my wings and…” she touched the frames where once those wings had been,

    “…I’m sorry. I’m sorry about my wings… but I couldn’t let the baby lie on such a crude bed. I just had to make it softer…I…”

    Celeste bowed her head and closed her eyes. She prayed silently that somehow God would understand the meanings of her heart. A big tear spilled from her eye, slid down her cheek and landed, splash! upon the feather at her feet.

    “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

    Silence hung in the air and then suddenly, there was a wind, tossing the leaves of the trees, bending the branches and blowing the dust. The tear-sogged feather rose up in the air, flitting, skipping, and twirling about. Rays of light reflected in so many tear drops seemed to be shooting from this one tiny feather. With a shower of sparkles, the feather burst apart and the wind became a swirling powder, sweeping over Celeste, plucking the remaining bits of fluff from her wings, flinging them like snow into the air.

    And then Celeste felt another surge of wind, warmer than the first and its warmth enveloped her being and settled around her. Just as quickly as it started, the wind stopped and all things became still once more.
    In awe and wonder Celeste opened her eyes. The great and shinning light was still there and the voice of God spoke,

    “Celeste, look at your wings!”

    Celeste didn’t want to. She wanted never to have to see those bare ugly frames again. Yet, something felt different about them. Timidly, she slid her gaze from one side, then the other and then slowly, she rolled her wings up for a closer inspection. She couldn’t believe her eyes!
    They were back! The fluffs of white were back and seemed more downy and beautiful than before!

    Was she only dreaming she wondered? She put out her hands to touch them, smoothing the feathers and then gasped in wonder. For there, within the pure whiteness of her new wings were shimmers of light, as though tumbling sparks of stars had been captured and held within the softness of the folds.

    Soft, gentle laughter of purest joy came bubbling from the light. In delight, God told her,

    “Because your heart was filled with such love and concern for my son, Jesus, and because you were willing to part with your eternal gift of heaven all for the love of the most helpless of these, a baby, I have not only given you back your wings, I have made them the most beautiful wings in all of heaven.”

    “They are different than any other angels’ wings,” God continued, “for caught and held within them are the tear drops that you shed.”

    “Try them out, Celeste,” God urged, “See how well you fly!”

    With overflowing joy, the angel rose on wings of untold beauty. She twirled and soared, sparkling against the night sky. She wanted to stretch out her arms and shout with glee!
    Oh, how glorious to fly again!

    Softly, she settled back to earth and stood in reverence before the light.

    “Oh, Father,” she was breathless and radiant, “They are so beautiful, so lovely! Oh, thank you, Father, for such a wonderful gift, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

    Without thinking, Celeste twirled around in a little dance of sheer delight for her joy could not be contained. In her twirling, she saw Rebecca and Melanie beaming back at her, Rebecca joyfully jumping up and down while she clapped her hands and furled and unfurled her own wings.

    “Celeste,” the Heavenly Father called to her.
    “Yes, Father?” she replied joyfully as she came to a standstill.

    “About your singing…”

    Celeste’s hand flew to her mouth and she folded her sparkling wings about her.
    “Oh, my,” she thought, “did I do something wrong to sing to the Christ child?”
    She hadn’t meant to offend. Her words came out in a rush.

    “He was crying and his parents were busy and no one else was there and he needed someone to sooth him!” She took a deep breath and continued, “I know that my voice isn’t the most pleasing in the world but babies never seem to mind…Jesus didn’t seem to mind anyway. He quieted right down and…” Celeste’s face glowed with the thought, “…he even smiled at me, just like my own baby did just before…” her voice trailed off, her thoughts lost in remembrance.

    God saw her thoughts; saw the image of the young Mother this angel once had been and the baby she would have given even her new wings to hold once more.

    He saw all this, had seen all this and understood.

    The voice of God spoke:

    “Because you ministered to the needs of my son, Jesus, and soothed him with your voice, you shall be granted the sweetest voice in all of Heaven and when you sing, even the stars shall cease their spinning, the better to hear you.”

    Celeste was awe-struck. “Me? Wings AND a new voice?” she squeaked.

    A deep, delighted chuckle tumbled from the light.

    “And a new name,” the voice of God continued, “Because you showed mercy to the smallest of these, you shall now be known as the Angel Mercy and you shall have a position in heaven. Angel Mercy, you shall be the comforter of all the new babies entering into heaven. For some of these little ones may miss the sounds of their earthly mothers singing them a lullaby; therefore, it shall be your joy to comfort, hold and sing to all the new babes in heaven.”

    “Oh, Father!” In gratitude, with her tear-drop wings glistening in the light, the new Angel Mercy fell upon her knees, her hands clasped in prayer, her face like a shinning star and her heart a flame of joy.



    The light became brighter and brighter, its brilliance reaching out to touch the olive groves, the stable, the village and the fields. It completely enfolded the Angel Mercy and the two other angels kneeling behind her. Then, with a blinding radiance and a warm rush of wind, the holy light gathered up the angels and moved upward to the skies, scattering the stars before them and parting the curtains of eternity for a gleaming instant.

    Once more the earth night was still about the ageless village and the verdant fields. From those fields, shepherds now were coming, moving toward the feeble glow cast from an oil lamp in the opening of a hillside, guided by a shining star that hung like a jewel in the dark sky.

    And that is why, that sometimes on very special and magical Christmas eves, there floats through the air huge puffy flakes of snow that cover the earth like the fluff of angel wings, making soft and indented mounds like resting places for new born babes. And on such a night, if you listen very, very carefully, you may hear the sound of music, pure heavenly music with a voice so sweet that even the stars will cease their spinning the better to hear the Angel Mercy singing to the Christ child and every baby that enters heaven.
    "Why not stay awake now? Who wants to sleep now with so much happening, so much to see? Life used to be dull you see...and you don't have to sleep alone, you don't even have to sleep at all; and so, all you have to do is show the stick to the dog now and then and say, 'Thank God for nothing.'"

    Drusilla, "The UNVANQUISHED. William Faulkner

  6. #6
    Join Date
    Apr 2007
    Location
    God's Country
    Posts
    905
    WOW Thank you !! Beautiful !!

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Jun 2012
    Location
    State of Jefferson Sierra Mountains
    Posts
    4,355
    That was just beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing this story.

  8. #8
    Oh my, that made me cry. What a beautiful story.

  9. #9
    Thanks for posting this great story.
    Wayne

  10. #10
    That was so incredibly beautiful. thank you so much for sharing

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