Los Ángeles

“María, be sure not to drop any of those seeds Mama gave us, ok?”

“Ok,” María said before hitting her sister’s arm. “Tag! You’re it!”

Annabella shrieked as the younger girl dashed away, then began to chase after her. She had almost reached María when suddenly the younger girl stopped.

“María, what is it?” Annabella fished a ribbon from her woven skirt and tied up her long black curls. Her sister’s innocent face glowed and shimmered, as if all the sun’s rays were waltzing across it. A smile crept onto her face.

“María, what is it?” Annabella inquired again. María merely pointed ahead in response. Annabella turned to look, and a gasp escaped her lips.

Flowing through the grass was a river of gold and silver and bronze; it glittered like a thousand diamonds and whispered as a man might to his lover. The river twisted and winded as far as the girls could see.

Annabella could hardly believe her eyes. She and María had always played in this field; surely they would have seen the glorious river before now?

It was María who moved first. Stepping towards the river’s edge, she dipped a finger into the water.

“Oh Annabella! It’s so warm, like soup!” She looked back at her sister grinning. A gentle breeze began tugging on her skirt and a new voice spoke.

“Annabella. María. My children. I have a favor to ask of you both.”

María scurried over to Annabella and clutched at her waist. The older girl placed an arm around her shoulders and smiled.

“Yes Father. We would be honored.”

“Those seeds of pure light you keep tight in your hands. Do you know what they are?” Both girls shook their heads; their mother had given the seeds to them earlier that day with no explanation. “I would like you both to release those seeds into the river. I have a use for them. You may not understand now, but when you are older, you will. In time, you will come find this river and remember and only then will you know why.” The breeze wafted away as the girls stood there, confused.

“Come on Annabella!” Once again, María rushed ahead of her sister to the glimmering river and sat at its edge. Slowly, she raised her closed fist over the water and, with only the slightest hesitation, opened her tiny hand. All the light that had been contained within began swirling around in the water, rapidly spreading down river as if it knew where it was. Annabella approached the bank and copied her sister. The girls then watched as the gold and silver and bronze became banded with white.

“Wanna go home now?” María asked. Annabella nodded, and the two girls walked home hand-in-hand.

Years later, while Annabella sat at home beading a bracelet for her mother, María rushed in flushed and breathless.

“Annabella! Annabella! Come quickly!”

Annabella leapt up and dashed out the door behind María, wondering what the urgency was about. Across the field they flew, through tall lush grasses and a rainbow array of birds and butterflies. Finally the girls stopped. María, completely winded, merely pointed.

Annabella’s brown eyes grew large.

“Woah…”

A river of gold and silver and bronze and white rushed past her. Her memory flashed to the time when she and María first found the river, before the white light had been released.

“Annabella, look at the flowers!” María pointed to the opposite bank. Annabella smiled.

“We did that María. We spread the seeds of light that made those flowers grow.”

The delicate white flowers began to nod as a breeze began to blow.

“Children,” the voice from so long ago once again called to them. “As you can see, that light you gave created the magnificent flowers across the river. But it did not simply add to the beauty of this land; indeed, those flowers helped save a life.” In answer to the girls’ amazed faces, He elaborated. “A woman in a far off land still smiles because of you. She is a mother, a nurturer, a provider, a much-loved giver, and an angel. She can laugh and celebrate as she should, all because you opened your hands and your hearts to her. Now my children, do you understand?”

The girls nodded, tears rolling down their faces. They looked at the beautiful land around them, understanding at last the true meaning of the light, and extremely grateful to have been the angels to help the woman. The white flowers waved to them in thanks as the breeze danced across the river and finally disappeared. The girls were left in momentary silence.

“She sounded perfect,” María said, awe coating her voice like honey. They stood on the bank for a few more minutes, admiring the flowers they had created to save a woman’s life before turning to go back home, their hearts weightless with happiness.

When they got home, their mother stood waiting for them in the wooden doorway. She smiled at them before asking, “Do you understand now?” The girls nodded silently as she wrapped her strong arms around them, kissed them on the head, and released them so she could resume cooking.

Somewhere in the world, a woman smiled as she hugged her daughters for the first time in a long time. She looked up towards the sun and whispered a thank you to the angels who had allowed her to hold her children once more before kissing each of her daughters on the head and stepping through the doorway into her own home.