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| Image from: jilldiana.homestead.com |
She was the chosen one. Pale, beautiful and slender – not like the others, who were plump, rosy and cheerful.
Her pale
blue eyes turned towards the heaven.
Thin
white hands covered her ethereal face.
Teardrops
of pure silver slid over her marble-like cheeks.
How long
must she remain here?
Until the task I send you to complete, has
been completed, a Voice said in her head.
She closed
her eyes against the bright yellow sun. But that will be never!, she protested.
That may be so, but that is where I need you
…
She stands
up from the parkbench where she sat and looked at the ambulance and police
officers, gathered around the body of a naked newborn baby. Another tear slips from her eyelash and rolls
down her cheek. She is with you now, Lord. I comforted her when her mother left her
there to die … Please let her feel loved
and warm and …
“Is
this your feather?” The little girl is
about four years old. Her wide brown
eyes look inquisitively at the beautiful, pale young woman in front of her. “Why are you crying?”
Nobody
else ever sees me … How is it possible?
The angel bends down. “What is
your name, little one?”
“Hope!”
“You can have my feather.” She folds the small hand around the
silky
feather.
“Thank you!
I will keep it forever!” The angel
watches as Hope runs towards her mother.
Thank you Lord, for Hope …
All she had left of her wings
was that single solitary feather.
Which is now the property of
Hope.
The Lord shall send his angel with you and make your journey successful.
Genesis 24.40
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