Angels of Flesh and Blood are All Around Us

He was just three when he first told me there were angels here and I stopped and tried to savor the moment, snapping a mental picture to harbor in my mind’s eye for eternity. Then he ran off to play with his brother.
He was seven when he came again to tell me there are angels here, and I smiled as he dug through his backpack and pulled out a sad looking candy bar I had stuck in there days before, and off he ran to play with his friends.
At thirteen he told me again, voice cracking a it as he matured, “mom, there really are angels here among us,” and he pulled the new guitar from its case and went to the basement to practice playing music I could not fathom, but long endured.
He was eighteen when I helped him move into his first apartment. He and I tugged and shuffled the little bit of furnishings he’d rounded up, and as I left that day he turned and said. “Mom, there are angels here on earth”.
He was twenty-two when I found him so in need of rescue I could not believe this was my son. He came home for a brief time, and as he left he said, “I know there are angels here among us, mom.”
At thirty he was starting to find himself, and smiled at me as he did me the service of painting my house. As he pulled his tools together at the end of a long day, he said, “The angels have been good to me.”
Suddenly:
I longed for the eyes of a child,
And asked for a guided start;
Please, Father, let me trust,
Show me the angels of his heart.

Show me now Father, if you will,
Give me the eyes of a child,
Help me see you Envoys….
And then my son turned and smiled

You are praying to know my angles?
You are asking what they do?
Then you are asking the Father for a mirror…
Mama, my angel is you.

I don’t know the end of the story, but my heart says that long before we came here, and far beyond the veil, we nurtured and cared for, fostered and minded, and there we trained for what lay ahead. Whether bent, or slightly broken, frail or infirm, we are all the envoys of the Father to those along the path. My son taught me that.