Twinkling, yellow stars floated among the clouds which hovered over the sleeping streets of Seattle. Nothing was ever quiet on a late Friday night in a bustling city, except in the wee hours of the following morning when parties came to an end and night shift workers came home. Deep within the city rested a darkened alleyway nestled between an aging diner and a rundown barbershop. Not a thing made a sound except the occasional roar of a passing car and the rapid breathing of a young man. This man had a tall stature, with a muscular build. His blue eyes screamed extreme sadness along with confusion and his face looked like it had gone with out shaving for days. His disheveled, black hair rested on his head matching his untidy clothes.
A pointed, shining blade fell from the man's shaking hands landing with a dull clatter on the cracked cement. He breathed in and out short breaths, in shock at what stood right before his eyes. He was not alone. A young woman in an elegant, white dress gracefully walked towards him. Although the alley was littered with broken bottles and other sorts of rubbish, she did not so much as wince as her bare feet moved with ease across the cement. The soft glow of a light from above illuminated her long, auburn hair which danced freely in the gentle breeze.
"I'm an angel, Henry," she said in a voice which resembled a kind, Irish accent.
"A what?" Henry said. This was only Monica. This was the woman who just started working for the company he did. He never knew angels existed. A delicate smile graced her lips. Henry noticed his breathing slowing down as he began to feel the warmth and comfort from the light which enclosed the angel's body.
"An angel," she said, "God has sent me here to be with you through this hard time in your life."
"God? What does he want?" Henry said. Anger was now in his voice. "He's the one who took her. With that, He took my life away as well."
"No, you, yourself took your life away. I don't know why God chose to take your wife and kept you here. But since then, you've turned to drugs, you've turned to alcohol, and now you want to take your own life."
"So what?" Once more, Henry breathed in and out rapid breaths as salty tears ran down his cheeks. He slowly backed his muscular build against a brick wall and sunk his knees into the ground.
"It's not your time," Monica said coming closer toward him, "When the Father is ready, He'll take you home. God gave you your life for a reason. Spend your time looking for that reason and don't destroy it more than you already have. Your wife is in heaven now. You should be glad of that."
"How can you be sure?" Henry asked. Once more a beautiful and gentle smile formed across the angel's face as the soft glow of a light from heaven poured into the darkened alleyway.
"You were once a great man, Henry," Monica said in her Irish accent, "You were once married to a beautiful woman who loved you and more importantly loved God with all of her heart. You just need to trust Him." She walked calmly toward him and placed her slender hand on Henry's shoulder who was now shaking silently on the cement with his head cupped between his fingers.
"God loves you. Trust that He will guide you through the changes you are about to make and live your life to the fullest." The angel bent down to pick up the silver knife that rested soundlessly on the ground. She turned it cautiously in her hand then threw it into the air. The blade formed into a pure, snowy-white dove which peacefully took wings and flew into the inky-black sky above.
Henry watched it, feeling a sense of hope and comfort within him. "So God is really there," he said, then looked to where the Irish angel was standing. But she was gone. His eyes searched his surroundings but she was nowhere to be seen. Henry sighed as he rose from the cement and began his journey home through the sleeping Seattle streets.
God, he prayed, please forgive me what I've done. I believe and trust that you will help me figure my life out. I know it will be tough but I know you will guide me. Thank you, God. Amen.