The perfume of thousands of coloured flowers was quickly spread by the wind in that open green field, filling up the air with a sweet fragrance that could be felt at a distance. The singing of the birds was turned into a soft melody that broke the silence of those vast lands and their flight across the bluest of the skies was precisely coordinated, adding even more colour to what looked like a beautiful painting made by Mother Nature.
That small piece of Heaven was actually known by few and visited by small groups of friends once in a while, especially during the spring and summer. But what those scarce visitors did not know was that those magnificent mountains that seemed to caress the sky also served as a shelter for God's angels whenever they were walking on Earth either as their creator's messengers or merely when they want to contemplate His wonderful creations.
Walking along that lovely garden, a beautiful auburn lady looked around her with a contented smile upon her meek face. Barefoot and wearing a long flowered dress, Monica was in her human form but anyone who was blessed enough to cross her way would immediately recognise her heavenly origin due to her ethereal figure. Her reddish hair locks were flying up with the summer breeze and framed her accentuated Gaelic features, perfectly shaped by the Father Himself.
The angel was holding a roll of white line in her hands and looked slightly anxious as she paced along a trail opened amongst the flower field. As much as she could spend long hours contemplating God's amazing creations, this time her soft doe-like eyes were not gazing at the daisies and dandelions that were spread along her way. Instead, her brown eyes were gazing at someone else. He was tall and strong, wearing a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans; his broad shoulders matched his muscular chest and the wind was also playing with some strands of his short dark blond hair. His handsome face was symmetrical, with a strong jaw and an attractive smile, and the green of his eyes somewhat reflected the tenderness of his soul. And even if he had a human form, the man was made from the same essence of his dearest friend, who he observed with admiration and much affection.
Andrew patiently waited for Monica to take some distance from him. Holding a colourful kite, the blond angel elected she had walked enough and spoke to her in a loud voice. "Angel, I guess this is enough,"
His lovely companion nodded her head with enthusiasm. "Okay, Andrew. I guess this time we'll manage to do it!"
The blond angel let the kite go with the wind and watched with slight worry as Monica clumsily tried to keep it flying up in the air. A minute later, however, the kite fell over the flower field for the third time on that morning.
"I'm afraid I will never get it, Andrew..." Monica sighed with some discouragement. Andrew was quick to come to her side and, with a tender look in his eyes, he took some strands of hair from her face. "All you need is practice, angel. I've seen humans trying to do it and they don't get it in the first attempt."
The Irish angel looked at him and her heart was immediately filled with so much love and joy that she let go of her previous frustration. Of course flying a kite was not the same of accomplishing an assignment but only a little bit of fun during the angels' day off. What amazed her was his ability to always soothe her heart and to convey that familiar sensation of joy whenever they were together. And even being apart, the memory of his kind and compassionate eyes looking at her and of his arms wide open ready to hold her were a way to warm her soul until the day they could meet again.
"I know..." she replied, somewhat sheepishly, "I've watched the wee ones doing it in the park the other day and it looked like they were indeed having so much fun."
Something that Andrew had come to terms with was the fact that he could not see the slightest trace of disappointment in his dearest friend's eyes. Whenever that happened, he was quick to come up with a solution in order to see a spark of joy back in those sweet brown pools, and that was one of these moments.
Smiling, he tucked a stray lock of her flying hair behind her ear and spoke again. "I'll tell you what: this time, I'll stay here holding the line and you hold the kite and let it go with the wind when I tell you."
"I guess we have a deal then!"
Her Irish lilt filled the air and her broad smile always fascinated him. It was impressive how the simplest things were enough to make Monica happy, from a cup of mocha latte to a free afternoon in the forest. He loved her kind and sweet manners and the childlike innocence with which she saw the world. Being an angel of death sometimes meant dealing with the most horrible side of human beings and frequently Andrew's assignments caused his heart to be filled with sorrow and even with anger. Monica's presence was like a warm safe place where he could run when sadness was too much to bear; a breath of fresh air that would always bring relief and reassurance to his soul.
He watched with contentment as she took some distance holding the kite in her hands. "I'm ready, Andrew!" the Irish angel shouted, with the excitement of a ten-year-old. With ability, he finally managed to make the object fly up in the bright blue sky. Monica ran to his side and both angels watched as the kite danced with the wind.
"Now it's your turn!" he said, passing her the line and brushing a tiny kiss on her cheek.
They spent hours in that flowered field and Monica's laugher, as well as the joy written on her face, went straight to Andrew's heart, and he was sure he would never get tired of just standing there contemplating her beautiful human form, hearing her voice and the cadence of her accent, and listening to her reflections about the world that surrounded them.
At the end of the day, the two angels sat under the shadow of an old oak tree and, leaning against its trunk, they watched the orange coloured sunset.
"This is so beautiful..." Monica sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder and feeling his arm around her own shoulders.
"It is, angel. But sharing the Father's creation with a dear friend makes it even more special, you know?"
She raised her head and looked at his handsome face; the sight of his dishevelled blond hair and sparkling green eyes combined with his strong masculine features suddenly caused her to feel butterflies in her stomach, a mix of pure joy and excitement for being so close to him and to hear the beautiful things he always had to say to her.
"This day was wonderful, Andrew. And it was thanks to you." She said, with all the emotion that unexpected feeling could produce.
With all the love in the world evident in his eyes, the blond angel raised his hand and gently stroked her face. "You don't have anything to thank me for, Monica. Being with you is... is like a present from God."
He tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer to him in a way that now she could rest her head on his chest and listen to his steady heart beats. The blond angel kissed the top of her head and then buried his face in her auburn hair, inebriated with the sweetness of her perfume.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she too held him tightly, secretly wishing that that moment was frozen in time. "It feels so perfect..." the Irish angel finally spoke, and closed her eyes afterwards.
A smile appeared on Andrew's lips and the joy for having Monica in his arms was such that he felt a lump forming in his throat. That emotion was new and strange, but at the same time it brought him so much peace and joy that he felt like holding her forever. "It really does."
The two angels snuggled comfortably against each other and remained there, in silence. But both kept on secretly wondering where those feelings were coming from. It was as if the love they had always felt for each other had grown even more on that split second.
And just to think of it, God forbid, was enough to fill their hearts with the greatest happiness they had ever felt.
To be continued