The Angel

The three-and-a-half-foot-tall garden angel was exquisite. Her delicate features portrayed grace and serenity. I loved her, but she cost much more than I could afford. I waited the entire summer, hoping the angel would go on clearance. When she did, I purchased her and placed her next to the front door. A few days later, my grown son came to clean the siding on the house with a high-pressure sprayer. Somehow, the hose became tangled. It caught the poor garden angel. She toppled. One of her wings splintered into dozens of pieces.

Red faced, my son apologized. He quickly turned away from me. He didn’t want to finish washing the siding—just get away from what had happened. The strain of his teenage years had once cut a deep division in our relationship. I didn’t want anything to come between us again. A distinct thought flashed into my mind: my son was much more important than a resin angel. I needed to express what was in my heart. I rushed off the porch to tell him how much I loved him and how very important he was to me.

Later that same year, he surprised me with another angel: a beautiful stone piece with a bird alighting on her hand. The one-winged resin angel I continue to proudly display next to the front door. A reminder that love of family and friends is far more important than anything else.