Our family isn’t very large, my mom has a brother and my Dad has a sister and brother. With the four grandparents that gives me 10 relatives plus four cousins.  So needless to say we are a very close family.  I often would stay the week-end at one place or another. Its was always fun like a big slumber party.  I loved my cousins and my Aunts and Uncles, but the one place I loved the best was with my mother parents.  My Grandmom and Grandpop we’re the best.. My Grandmom let me cook with her at a very young age, I loved it.  She showed me how to sew and taught me how to draw.  My Grandfather just did anything I wanted to do.  He was big and jolly, like having Santa Clause around all year long.  He would take us to the mall and buy me anything my greaty little mind wanted.   How he spoiled me, needless to say I loved him the most.   Then the most appalling horrid  accrued.  My  grandfather die very suddenly of a heart attack, when I was 12. I couldn’t understand it nor could I come to terms with it for a very long time.  At first I thought it might some how be partly my fault or something I hadn’t done. I was mad at everyone.  How could they let this happen to ME.  I blamed my self for not showing him enough affection or spending enough time with him.  I became very introverted. I didn’t talk to anyone, I cried.  My mother became very concerned and I was sent to see a doctor.  A very nice lady who over a mouths time convinced me it wasn’t my fault and that I wasn’t responsible for his death.  
I was told it was foods he had eaten and his genetics, smoking and work he did as a young man in the coal mines all contributed to his sudden death.  This only redirected my anger to him. I was mad at him for not taking better care of himself, didn’t he know I still needed him, I still enjoyed his games, the garden needed to be tilled.  Who was going to plant the tomatoes and peppers. I helped, but I couldn’t do it alone. I brewed in my anger for a few weeks. The more I thought about it the more I understood that my Grandfather was as much a victim as I was. I know he would never do anything to hurt me.  Then Christmas came and I was still very sad.  I had no one to blame for this void in my life so I just became a very unhappy child.  My mother has a friend who is a Nun.  She came for dinner one evening around Christmas and she talked to me.  Explaining how my Grandfather was with God and that his time on earth was only in preparation for his accent into heaven to be with God.  That his time had come and he was called by God to now serve in heaven.  That mad me mad all over again.  God, yes it was God who took my grandfather.  Damn, I found who was responsible for this odious action against me. It was GOD.  I was outraged at God, how could he take such a wonderful person away from me, I still need his hugs and his love.  I need the way he always had time for me, how he showed me new things. Gardening, planting vegetables and flowers. How he bought me things my parents wouldn’t.  I loved his warm hands and his soft belly when I fell asleep on him in the big chair.  God did this to me.  I hated him.  I wouldn’t talk to anyone again, I hated the nuns, I hated the church, I hated everyone.  I was a unapproachable, no one could talk to me.  My mother sent me to my room for a week for yelling that I hated God one Sunday morning, when she wanted to take to church. I cried.  I was a miserable. Then one night as I lay in the dark in my room thinking about what was the point to living. The most incredible thing happened.  A soft light glowed before me at the foot of my bed. Stand there was the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen, she was aglow in a shimmering light, with soft white hair and the most delicate features. She had large white feathered wings on her back and a very sad look on her face.   Tears ran down her cheeks.  I knew she was crying for me.  We starred at each other and then she raised up, floating over my bed.  She didn’t say anything, just reached out and touched my cheek.  I stopped crying and for the first I understood that my Grandfather was ok, he was happy, he missed me, but that he was watching over me now, and for all  time.  I felt warm and peaceful.  The angel smiled at me and her tears melted away, as did mine. I must of fallen asleep, because when I awoke it was morning.   I was happy, I no longer was mad, I felt joy inside again. I knew my grandfather was happy.  I still feel those feelings of warmth and contentment.  I’ve never seen the angel again but I still feel her magic. I now know that when I think a thought that makes me happy or releases me from pain I feel from life, these are the images of Magic Angels. They are all around us, all the time, they walk by our sides and travel with us.  They share a table with us when we eat and help us dream when we sleep.  They help us to show love and to help others.  I think I’m a very lucky girl to have found this truth.  I don’t believe the church has anything to do with it.  I just think that they are with us.   Think about it, deeply, you know this to be true, we are aware of Magic Angels, some of us won’t admit it, or others ignore them when they speak, but we all have felt them around us, we know we’re not alone here.  Magic Angels walk among us.