My belief that a child is born an Angel is a cornerstone of
my reality. A newborn, an Angel, welcomed and appreciated in an environment of
love and goodness, will become a loving human being. Like a sponge they will
absorb their surroundings and create their
cornerstone for a life of happiness or not.
Sometimes
Angels lose their wings. Stories are ways to let wingless Angels know the truth
. . . stories of truths that are too difficult to perceive or reflect on by
one’s self.
My
first Angel story is about a young girl who worshiped her Father. He was her
fairy-tale prince and she was his princess. She imagined him like a God. There
was nothing he could not do. His gifts were plentiful. Joy surrounded her . . .
until . . . one day her happiness disappeared. She was eight years old.
Evie
no longer danced and sang her fairy tale songs; no longer dreamed of being a
beauty queen or a movie star, or marrying her daddy; no longer was she daddy’s
girl. Evie’s heart and soul cracked like the neck of a baby bird fallen from
its nest.