Another Healing Angel

I couldn't have made it through breast cancer treatments without my husband, Charles. He was forever at my side, convincing me I could get well.

Our friends got me started with the angels. "Here's another one to watch over you, Betty," they'd say, bringing get-well wishes to the hospital. I'd whisper a prayer whenever I received a new addition, asking God to have his angels be with me.

After I came home, Charles continued to buy me angels. He would hide a new one among the others in the living room and wait till I found it. "Another healing angel," he would say when I discovered my latest surprise.

In November 1999, nearly five years after my ordeal began, the doctor proclaimed me cancer-free. Now I could throw myself wholeheartedly into planning a big, bountiful Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for, I thought. Especially my dear Charles.

One morning while I sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, Charles died of a heart attack in our bedroom. Alone that night, I looked around the living room at all my angels. "How will I ever heal from this?" I asked them.

My lawyer had said I needed to locate Charles's will as soon as possible. I opened the closet where he kept our important documents. I remembered once finding my Christmas presents hidden there too. I moved aside a couple of thick file folders. Behind them something shimmered. A glass angel, trimmed in gold.

Another healing angel, I could hear Charles say. I added the precious surprise to my collection in the living room. Surrounded by angels, I asked God to keep them ever watchful over me. I did have much to be thankful for. Especially my dear Charles.