|In the Arms of an Angel
Author: nicole93marie PM
I recognized him at once. His long locks of golden hair, his crystal blue eyes and the faint glow that surrounded his strong body. I first saw him at my father's funeral 11 years ago and yet here he was now, not looking like he had aged a day... R&R!Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,988 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 05-16-12 - Published: 09-14-11 - id: 2952482
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello everyone! First off I'd like to tell you thank you SO so much for taking the time to open this and read it. Secondly, if you read this, I'd love it if you could review this story! Receiving reviews is a little bit like receiving gifts at Christmastime. Plus I find them very helpful and encouraging. So thank you for taking the time to do this! Enjoy the story!
I first saw him when I was nine at my father's funeral. There he was next to his casket, standing out against the sea of black mourning clothes in his white suit. I don't remember the sun shining in the church that day, but it did only where he stood. He seemed to be glowing. Light poured from somewhere above onto the soft locks of his golden hair. I was scared and felt alone after losing my father to an awful car crash, but something about this man made me feel comforted.
Cautiously, the man lifted my father out of the casket. Crystal, blue pools briefly met my brown eyes. I wanted to cry out, leave my father alone! But I couldn't. Something about this man made me feel as though my father would be safe in his arms. My eyes darted around the vastness of the church with the only color coming from the stained glass windows high above my head. I had never noticed before, but the stained glass seemed to glow brightly as well as the man. It was as if God was singing. I wanted to see if others were panicking because of the man carrying my father's body. But no one was. Perhaps I was the only one who could see him.
My eyes traveled to the front of the room once more. The man was gone and once again the church seemed darker. The color in the windows resumed to its dark tinges of red and blue. I let out a small cry then bolted to my father's casket to see if he was still there. And he was- peacefully resting as if he were asleep underneath a tree on a hot summer afternoon.
"Jane, sweetheart, what are you doing?" My grandmother was puzzled along with the rest of the church.
"There was a man holding him," I said through sobs, as I walked back toward her arms, "There was a man holding daddy."
"Oh Jane, he will be alright. Your daddy is safe now. He is Home with the Father." She gave me a small smile as she welcomed me into her loving arms.