Monday, February 8, 2021

Um, Andrew?

 “Yes, Little One ...”

“Before yesterday, there was just you, and all of us critters.  You’re an angel, but that Michael dude ... you called him an Archangel?”

“Yes.  There aren’t many of them.  Michael, the Archangel, is far more powerful than I am, far wiser, and has more of the Creator’s bidding to do than we do.  We are among the Company of Heaven, and far greater in number.”

“Oh.  I kinda thought YOU were in charge.”

“No, my love.”  Andrew settled with his back against a beautiful willow tree, whose branches swayed lightly in the breeze.  A few little birds had joined them, preening their feathers as they sat, curious about where this conversation was going.  

“We are angels, sometimes called cherubim.  You’ve seen us about, making sure everyfur’s needs are met, though needs are few here.  There are others who serve in other capacities as well.  Much like it was on earth, different people had different responsibilities.  Some of us are tasked with greeting new arrivals. Some of us even go to earth, when the transition of life to death is difficult, as escorts.  There are many meadows, and all are served by Crystal Creek, the water that flows from the River of Life. Just as all of you are tied together in one way or another, there are many many other groups, with their own angels like me, who look after them.  Our Creator’s house has many rooms.”

“Mama used to say that.  It didn’t make much sense then, and I’m not so sure it does now.  There were people on earth I didn’t like.  Like the Vet. I didn’t much like him.”  Misty studiously scrubbed a paw. “He did things to me I did not like.”

Andrew chuckled.  “It was his responsibility to keep you healthy.”

“So ... does Michael greet others than the dogs we saw?”

“There are special circumstances when Michael greets ones who come.  The dogs you saw were special, trained to work with man, and protect him, in very dangerous situations.  When it is their time to come home to us, they are greeted by others of their kind, with the Archangel. It is a special honor.”

“Mama said *I* was special.”  Misty pouted. 

“You dear sweet kitty, you most certainly ARE special.  You have not just accepted what happens here, you want explanations!  Sometimes, I’m not so sure I’m providing you all that you need want to know, but I try.  

“All of you who come to us when your number of days have run out, were special to someone on earth. Even the lost and forsaken, the homeless and strays, are loved and prayed for, and those intercession are heard and answered.”  Andrew continued to stroke Misty’s silky fur.

“Um, what’s inter ... inter-sessions?’

Michael chuckled.  “Intercession.  Prayers said on behalf of others.  Your Mama, along with millions of other people across the globe, pray for guidance, pray on behalf of others who are in need, sickness or any other adversity.  With the invention of the ‘writie-box’ as you call it, people who never knew of each other can communicate , which they could not do before.  Their efforts to help others are strengthened by their numbers.”

“But sometimes Mama said people on the writie box were bad.  And sometimes the things she saw made water come from her eyes.  And no matter how hard I purred, or how fast I licked her face, it didn’t seem to help.”

“Oh, but it did, Misty, it did.  One of the gifts you have is your innocence, as well as your silky fur, and soft purrs.  And, many nights you were joined by others who came before you, who tucked themselves against her, and purred as well.  None of you have ever been completely gone, you know that.”

Misty thought about that, and again, remembered her mother’s words when she was just a wee kitten, ‘when in doubt, wash’.  And Misty scrubbed the other paw.  

Andrew marveled at these little beings who lived with people, and made their lives better by being there. From the tiniest mouse to the biggest horse, animals who lived with people served great purpose. And the Creator never forgot any of them, not ever.

“How does the Creator keep track of everyone? 

Andrew smiled down at her, and kissed her nose.  “He knows, Sweetheart, He knows ... when even a sparrow falls ...”


©️  Rose Scott

February 2021




No comments:

Post a Comment