No one said taking this assignment was a good idea. They all said, “there are so many, why choose this one?” How could I explain it was the way she moved, as though every step she took was a blessing? The way she sang, the vocal cords of starlight soaring through her. She would run out into the dark and cry out to her maker every night. And I would listen, I would watch utter humanity shine from her and whisper its’ song of hope. But there was little hope on the earth she was standing upon, and still I reached out to her, desperate for a touch of the faith flowing through her. Faith in a God who very much loved her.
Rosalie Grace Asher. A Rose born with no thorns, no antibodies to protect her from the air she breathed, the viruses and illnesses crowding to get into her system. But I loved her, I flowed myself through her, wrapped myself around her and held her beating heart to my chest. But she could never know me, she could never see or feel my touch as I urged her lifeforce on. I had loved humans before of course. But Rosie held life as a joy and a wonder, rather than a burden or belief that she was owed something. I loved her for her laugh, the way she dog eared books just to see her baby brother make her bookmarks so she wouldn’t. She would lean against her front door from the outside and watch the rain pour, reaching out her fingers so water trailed down her elbows.
She was meant to die at five, then ten, then seventeen. She reached her eighteenth birthday and applied for college. Everyone said she wouldn’t see her first lecture. We both disagreed. Miracles are Godsent, a moment of time when God smiles through the sun and nods. At 12:15pm East Australian time, the moment Rose was accepted into Melbourne University; God smiled. His grace poured through my fingertips as I felt his love inside of her burst into flames. For a moment she smiled along with him, unaware of just how surprised her doctor was going to be. Utterly, completely cured. I held her one last time, praying, sobbing, thanking a God who had seen a child amongst millions of lights. I held her and felt joy filled tears fall around me, amazed at a creature that she hadn’t stopped life, rather had empowered it with her very existence. As my duty came to an end, I soared into the air and smiled down at the chaos of humanity – and the child that pulled a handmade bookmark out of her novel.
I blew a kiss to Rosalie Grace Asher and just for a moment she looked up, a confused expression crossing her features before smiling and returning to her book. I wiped my tears and I was thanked with the whisper, “Guardian angels are always aloud to cry.” 908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDCKYRmuZHY
How else could we bear our unrequited loves?
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