So, what do I think about angels, you ask me? I don’t know. I don’t actually think about them. I know when I heard a Catholic Priest tell a woman who’s husband had just died, a husband I’d heard screaming at her just the night before in their hospital room, that now her husband was one and she could pray through him, I pretty much rejected him.

I can tell you I write about them occasionally, stories of beings of great power, but I never spend a lot of time on them.

But here’s this little stone putti-guy who (I’ve decided) is listening, and I allow him to remind me: listen. And then I find myself in a place where listening is required. Did he just go from angel to Angel?

Just another Angel, agitating for Peace, for Love, for space in the world for aching hearts to begin to heal. Hark the Herald Angel is singing, even now, even in January. Will I listen better now than I did before? I hope so. And isn’t that more likely, if there are angels, are they watching us, or are they herding us toward Peace? In that case, they probably have bigger things in store for us than we’re likely to be comfortable with. Oh, now there’s a surprise.

I knew that little guy had to be distracted with something important if he didn’t notice the snow…