Angel Messenger

What happens on the other side? I can't tell you how many times a day I receive this question. I'm one of many angels. In order to tell you how I do my job, I have to tell you the stories of the many lost souls I see every day.


9. The Third


Just as I’m beginning to enjoy the silence I hear the clock tick. When I glance at it’s face I see my day is almost over and I’m due for another visitor soon. All these memories I’m seeing and hearing, along with all the ones I vaguely remember from my past lives….make me wonder how I’d be on Earth now.

Would it be as gorgeous? Will roses still smell and feel the same to me? I think of the moment I sat in a park surrounded by bushes of them. The sun was blaring against my skin and warming me from the outside in. Would that still feel the same to me as it did then?

I sigh softly as I remember and almost feel the sun, warm against my soul. As I walk toward the doors my surrounding changes back to its normal setting. Just as the one door opens the final cloud emerges in a wispy form.

“Welcome back, Desiree.” I greet, trying to hide my surprised features at her early return. She smiles at me and with small, graceful steps she walks toward me.

“Hello again.” She replies with a gentle nature.

“Why did you not tell me how sweet he was? Or how adorable he would act?” She asks with a dream like daze. I chuckle softly and look to the floor as I smile.

“I take it all is well with him then?” I ask, looking up at her again. She nods in response and reaches for my hands, holding them with hers.

“Never in my life have I ever been this happy or at peace. So….honestly, and genuinely…thank you.” She says, her eyes closing and her grip on my hands tightening. We stand like this for a moment and during this time there’s a sense of change in the atmosphere. I smile at the sight in front of me.

When she opens her eyes she’s out of breath and falls backward onto her bum. As she sits on the floor I watch her features change from shock to acceptance. Her eyes search behind me and hungrily devour the sight before her as though this were her first time opening them.

“They‘re beautiful,” she says in a sigh.

“….you‘re beautiful.” She continues in amazement. I smile down at her and offer her a hand as I lean toward her.

As we stand I turn her toward a mirror I’ve had concealed since the dawn of the day. Her gasp is loud and immediate. She walks slowly to the face of it and once she’s a few feet away, she stares at her reflection. The tears stream down her face slowly and the smile across her lips is wide, beautiful and as genuine as her gratitude. 

“They‘re mine?” She asks, reaching her hand behind her to touch her wings. I nod in response and watch her inspect them for the first time. This is my favorite part of the entire process. The first initial reaction our new arrivals have after they fully grip onto their completed soul. When they can fully appreciate the world and themselves with a new found confidence they never had while living.

She grabs a handful of feathers with gentle fingers and palms. Her breath is shallow as it all sinks in around her and I place a hand on her shoulder. She looks to me with glazed eyes as we look at one another and for the first time, truly see our completed souls and both understand how beautiful and thankful we are. 

“I didn‘t expect this.” She says with emotion in her voice. I smile to her and when she turns to look at me, her hand touches my wings. 

“Every angel retains their wings. The only difference is that some are acquired at different times than others.” I reply as she runs her careful fingers across my peach feathers.

We stare down at my feathers as I bring my wing closer to her. She inspects them and the bristles snap back in place as she folds them down. Her eyes stay glued to the colors they reflect off them. The colors found in a rainbow and others only seen with the naked eye, are reflected as she runs her thumb along the feather. All shine brightly against her darkened skin and inside the core of her eyes. I wipe away her happy tears as they fall down her cheeks.

“Why are mine a different color than yours?” She wonders, looking to my face. I smile answering,

“The longer you reside the more your color changes. You are a new comer, so your wings are white and pure  just as your newly completed soul is.” with a gentle tone as I wipe away the last tear.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, her eyes not wavering from mine. 

“Since my last death in 1967.” I reply. She seems taken aback but nods in understanding.

We walk to the double doors on the other side of the room. Her hand never leaving mine as she begins to ascend the stairs. She tugs on mine when she reaches the top step.

“I can‘t go any farther.” I answer honestly. She nods and thanks me once again before opening the doors and walking inside. Leaving me alone as she begins her new life in this afterlife.

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