Another Angel of Love Read online

This is a miracle of the first order, far greater than a one-time cure we sometimes witness when one is instantly healed of cancer or one’s sight is restored. Yes, it is a marvelous, wonderful, occurrence of the Lord’s hands when He sees fit to intervene divinely to accomplish His will and purpose, but it is nothing compared to what is done in the seen and unseen world by our Lord and His angels.

  You see my friends, life is like a big puzzle, and at the best of times we are fortunate to hold one or, at times, perhaps several, of the pieces. We scurry here and there in search of other pieces that might fit in and make us happier, richer and more satisfied, and thus complete the puzzle of our lives.

  But most often the struggle is in vain.

  If only we could have this, achieve that, possess her or him in our lives then all would be well and good. Yes, granted, at times a piece fits and some joy and satisfaction comes our way, but most often we go around in circles trying to fit a round piece into a square hole, a red colour where a blue is warranted, an interior piece to an outside edge. We try and try to make the pieces fit in our search for happiness only to find that what we thought would finally give us peace and joy yields only more heartache, frustration, emptiness and unrest.

  The Lord, however, sees the whole puzzle at all times—even when it changes as the result of prayer or influence or a thousand and one other factors that continually affect the lives of His people. He is all knowing, all powerful and can bring good out of any situation; He can create possibilities when all seems bleak and lacking in hope.

  Belief in God’s providence prepares us as we encounter new challenges or trials. It gives us peace of mind because we know God is at work with His helpers even when we are in the shadows and feel alone. We walk by faith and not by sight. We know and trust that God will bring us out of the darkness.

  So the sooner we place our Lord in the center of our lives and trust Him with all our hearts, that is when we start to see the whole picture and not a tiny snapshot of what we think is best. We finally begin to complete the puzzle of our lives, to fit into the plan that God has for each of His children.

  So important is this teaching that I believe it is the other reason the Lord allowed me to return to the land of the living after my brief trip to the other side. During those precious few minutes my protector Zachariah allowed me to see his guidance, protection and love, not only in my life but also in the workings of other guardian angels in the lives of those so very close and dear to me. When I returned it was my purpose to make others aware of our celestial protectors through the undying love story in the lives of my closest friends. The more we are reminded or made aware of our angels, the closer our relationship with them becomes, and soon they are our best friends and allies, our unseen link to our Creator.

  But there was also another vision I absorbed in the single moment Zachariah allowed: God’s divine providence so clearly and wonderfully at work in the lives of my dear friends.

  Imagine watching a movie sped up so you can see the plot develop almost instantly and, equally swift, the resolutions to the problems that arise. What would normally take two hours to understand took only minutes. I understood in very short order how each person dealt successfully or perhaps unsuccessfully with the issues in their lives.

  In similar fashion, imagine having access to an omnipotent mind outside of time, one that can see and understand in a single thought the entire lifetime of not only you but of others close to you. Imagine the myriad pieces of the puzzles of everyone’s lives coming together in the blink of an eye and faster. Imagine, if you will, knowing everything now. How the angels prompted them to do this or that, how this person influenced some choices or their heart was softened by the Holy Spirit to be receptive to the Lord’s will or how the meeting and separation of my dear friends was but a detour for the Lord to work out even greater possibilities than the ones they imagined or wanted or prayed for.

  But I get ahead of myself! Ha, ha… a carryover from my trip to the other side is this desire to share and reveal the story more quickly. But we must re-enter time and slow it down for us to really see and appreciate how the divine providence of the good Lord works.

  This is what the Lord wants me to share with you. So come, leave the lofty thoughts to the theologians and philosophers. We are simple people, let us go back outside and sit under the sun and rest awhile on the old grey crates while I share more of the tenderhearted love story of the lives so close to my heart.

  You will soon see, as I do, that it is best to put our sovereign Lord in charge of our lives and trust in Him. It is the only way you will ever see the pieces come together to complete the puzzle of your life.

  Chapter One

  On July 6th, 1959, two days after his eighteenth birthday, Henry awoke, thinking about Jenny for the second year in a row. It was three years to the day since he’d first laid eyes on her. He remembered it vividly. Jenny Sarsky had walked past his house on her way to Mr. Engelmann’s store; they had met in the store, and the moment he gazed into her eyes he’d been completely smitten. It had been love at first sight; the yearning in his heart for Jenny as strong now as it had been then.

  When they’d walked home together, she’d said, “Quickly, hold my hand!” as they rushed across a busy avenue, the touch of her warm palm sending an electrifying surge through his body. He would never forget the wonderful phrase Jenny had said so often that summer. Quickly, hold my hand, Henry softly repeated to himself as he lay in bed recalling it all: their summer together, walks, dates, secret notes, a bike ride at the park— then her sudden departure.

  That day at the park…they had almost made love. In a way, he still regretted that they hadn’t, although he knew stopping had been the right thing to do. And then there were those guys who’d dragged her off one night … he still hoped to find out what had really happened.

  He knew if he stayed in bed dwelling on it any longer, he’d just grow despondent and self-pitying. It had happened to him a year ago. Memories had flooded his mind and heart so intensely that for days after he could think of nothing but Jenny. At Mr. Engelmann’s suggestion, he’d started meditating and praying every morning to help him get through it. Henry had seen how it had helped his mentor cope with and accept his wife’s illness.

  Henry was glad for summer holidays. It had been a good year; he’d finished Grade 11 with excellent grades and had loved his art class. He had been elected president of the student council and gotten along well with most of his classmates. Even though most other eighteen-year-olds had finished Grade 12 that June, Henry still had a year to go. He and Jenny had that in common too—something they had discovered during one of their first encounters. And then, as often still happened, Henry’s mind and heart unwittingly filled with memories of her. He wondered how she would be spending her summer…if she was enjoying high school in Ottawa…if she ever thought about him…Henry caught himself before thoughts of Jenny brought on the heartache that inevitably followed.

  Today, he reminded himself, I’m starting full-time at Engelmann’s Grocery.

  As much as Henry liked school, he also loved working for Mr. Engelmann and would be working full-time for the next two months. They’d had incredible success over the past two years. Business had more than tripled and was flourishing in all aspects. Henry loved the challenge of the business and the opportunity to make it a success, but he loved the talks he and Mr. Engelmann had out back behind the store even more, sitting on the old weathered crates under the warmth of the sun.

  Mr. Engelmann was one of the wisest people Henry had ever met. Mr. Engelmann must have been a great teacher back in Austria and influenced the lives of many young people. Although the Engelmanns had every reason to be bitter about what had happened to them and their families during the Second World War, they weren’t. Mr. Engelmann always said, “Regardless of where we find ourselves in life, regardless of our circumstances, it’s what we do with life, how we live it—and
ultimately how we serve that is the important thing.”

  And serve they did. David and Anna Engelmann had dedicated their lives to the service of others. It was evident every day in the store. For Mr. and Mrs. Engelmann, selling groceries was simply a way to reach out to others. They lived modest, humble lives. They never talked about or boasted of their education or knowledge. No one even suspected they were both university graduates and had probably forgotten more about worldly affairs than most people in the neighbourhood even learned in a lifetime.

  Indeed, Henry was privileged to know Mr. Engelmann. If it hadn’t been for his mentor’s help in dealing with Jenny’s sudden departure, Henry was almost certain he wouldn’t have been able to cope. The loss he had felt, compounded by never hearing from her again, would have been too much to bear without Mr. Engelmann’s support, care, empathy and advice.

  He stretched out, then scratched his head, tugging the sheet up. Summer holidays meant they’d have more time to talk. On school days they had to wait until after the store closed for the day, but then they talked over the counter for however long it took. “You can’t share your heart in a hurry,” was a phrase Mr. Engelmann often said.

  In summers past, either Mrs. Engelmann or Mrs. Schmidt tended to the store so he and Mr. Engelmann could go out back with a soda pop and talk about life. At times Mr. Engelmann used big words and referenced famous psychologists or psychiatrists: Eric Fromm, Abraham Maslow, Ivan Pavlov, B.F. Skinner, Victor Frankl, Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung and Carl Rogers, to name a few. He and Henry compared different schools of thought regarding conditioning, Gestalt psychology, existentialism, rational emotive therapy and behaviour modification.

  Mr. Engelmann would say, “It’s not the person’s name or who said it or the school of thought that is important, but rather the lesson on life that is taught.”

  Henry clung to Mr. Engelmann’s every word as if it was the last he expected to hear. Mr. Engelmann had a way of explaining the most complex thoughts and topics in a simple and straightforward way that somehow always applied to whatever difficulty Henry was facing. In the end, it usually had to do with making choices based on values, and those in turn seemed always to relate to the values and principles of the Bible.

  “It’s all there, Henry. It’s very important to read the Bible every day so you stay focused on what is really important in life. All the psychologists, philosophers and psychiatrists in the world haven’t really discovered anything new. They are simply relating what has already been taught from the beginning when our good Lord walked the earth and showed us the way, the truth and the light.”

  Who, passing by, seeing a young man and an old one sitting out back on a weathered crate behind a grocery store, would ever think that such knowledge was being discussed and passed down?

  Henry stretched again. It was only six in the morning and the thin cotton curtains on the window couldn’t keep the rising sun from flooding his bedroom with a soft light. Time to get up and pray. It always started his day off right. Mornings were so peaceful, and because it was summer and he didn’t have to worry about school, Henry actually looked forward to getting up early.

  He rolled out of bed, dressed and went to his desk. He read a few chapters of the Bible then sat quietly with his eyes closed. He was getting better at emptying his mind of all thought and found it very relaxing. The first step was to focus on his breathing. It brought him into the present moment.

  Mr. Engelmann would say, “We need to think about the past at times, and also of the future, but to fret and worry about it constantly is a waste of life. Living in the now means living a focused life, an undivided life and a full life. The more we can live in the present, the more aware we become of our true selves and our ability to serve others.”

  Presently, the stillness was broken by the sound of his mother in the kitchen, getting ready for the day and planning meals. He decided to go down for breakfast.

  Henry passed his father in the hallway. “Have a nice day, Dad.”

  “Yeah, you, too, Henry. You’re up early.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep anymore and I’m anxious to get to the store.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like your work.”

  Henry didn’t respond because he knew his dad didn’t really care for his own job. He wished his dad could find something else. It must be awful to go to work every day and not enjoy it. How trapped and unfulfilled it must feel.

  “What would you like for breakfast, Henry?” his mother asked when he appeared in the kitchen.

  “Oh, corn flakes and toast will be fine.”

  He looked forward to sitting and chatting with his mom for awhile. The sun beamed through the east window of the kitchen, filling the room with peace and warmth. It complimented the love he and his mom felt for each other.

  They chatted about the day ahead, her gardening and her desire to find some part-time work. He sensed a loneliness in his mom as they talked and he knew it had something to do with his dad. His parents’ relationship hadn’t been the same since his father returned home after running off with another woman. Henry wanted to talk about it at some point but felt he had already thought too much about life for one day.

  He stepped outside. It was going to be another warm one. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. A lone jet climbed high above him, leaving a long double trail of white vapour that converged into one wide streak and dissipated into the cerulean sky. He took in a long breath of fresh morning air. Many of their neighbours had already turned on their sprinklers before the water demand got too high, reducing the pressure to a trickle. It hadn’t rained in days, and homeowners were putting a heavy strain on the city’s tenuous water supply. Henry reminded himself to put the hose on Mr. Engelmann’s front lawn as he walked between the houses to get his bike.

  Henry waved to Mr. Weichel, who was always up and out working in the yard if the weather was nice. Mr. Weichel’s garden and the flower bed in his front yard were the nicest on the block.

  And there was Mrs. Kartush, watering her petunias.

  “’Morning, Mrs. Kartush,” Henry yelled as he sped past her. He didn’t know if she’d heard him; her hearing was starting to go. Henry loved the people in the neighbourhood, and because of his job he knew almost everyone. They were mainly European in origin, hard-working and God-fearing. They helped each other out whenever they could. Henry felt a strong sense of belonging.

  Mr. Engelmann was always downstairs in the store by seven-thirty and usually had the front door unlocked by eight in anticipation of Henry’s arrival. When he entered the store that morning, however, the front door was unlocked, but the lights were still off and Mr. Engelmann wasn’t down yet.

  Henry went to the back storage room and flipped the light switches to both the back and front parts of the store, bringing a bit of life to the old building. It was unusual for Mr. Engelmann not to be in the store already. He hoped his mentor wasn’t sick. Perhaps Anna needed his attention; she hadn’t been well again lately.

  In tenth grade, Henry had started visiting Mrs. Engelmann in her bedroom on occasion. On his first visit, he’d found her resting in an ornate antique canopy bed, her face as pale as the lacy white sheets. Anna’s parents had owned such a bed, and when she’d seen one like it in an antique store, she’d told David she just had to have it. So they had purchased the bed, along with two end tables to go on either side, a dresser, chest of drawers and two lamps. The end tables didn’t match the other furniture but they seemed to fit because they were antiques and elegant in their own right.

  Since that first time, Henry had visited Mrs. Engelmann a lot. He liked talking to her. She was as wise as Mr. Engelmann, but softer spoken, preferring to listen. Henry often worried about her health, and hoped his visits cheered her and weren’t too strenuous. Mr. Engelmann was very protective of his wife’s need to rest and she didn’t often come down into the store anymore.

  Over t
he months, Mrs. Engelmann had conveyed to Henry how much she and her husband enjoyed having him around and what a blessing he was to them. Once, she had told him they thought of him as a son. Henry often felt like the Engelmanns were his parents too and he loved the time spent reading the Bible to her.

  When nine o’clock came and went and Mr. Engelmann didn’t appear, Henry knew something was wrong. Obviously, the old man had been down at some point because the front door had been open, but for some reason, he hadn’t stayed downstairs or turned on any of the lights. Yet he didn’t want to intrude on the Engelmanns’ privacy, especially if Mrs. Engelmann was having one of her bad days.

  The phone rang, startling Henry.

  “Engelmann’s Grocery, how may I help you? And good morning to you, Mrs. Neaster. Yes, it’s a beautiful day. Sure, we can deliver that. Two pounds of salami, a loaf of fresh French bread and a pound of butter. Anything else, Mrs. Neaster? Do you need it before lunch? Okay then, we’ll deliver it sometime today. Good-bye.”

  Henry replaced the receiver and left the order for Mr. Engelmann. Mr. Engelmann always knew how each customer preferred their meat cut. The sun streamed in, making the dust motes dance and Henry remembered the front lawn. He went to water it, hoping Mr. Engelmann would be down by the time he finished.

  A half-hour later, Henry was back inside. But Mr. Engelmann was still nowhere to be seen. There was no choice but to go upstairs and find out what was wrong.

  The staircase was dimly lit by the south-facing window. It was usually brighter up here, especially by this hour of the morning. The blinds must still be closed. Not a good sign.

  Henry always worried that he would be intruding or might startle Mrs. Engelmann by going up there. But at that moment he was more afraid than nervous.

  “Mr. Engelmann,” he called out in a low whisper. After a moment, he repeated the call again, a little louder this time. There was no answer. Henry climbed up a few steps and peered into the dim light, trying to see. He wondered if he should call the police.