Another Angel of Love Page 6

  Henry had often wondered why Mrs. Engelmann spent so much time talking to people who weren’t really her friends. But now that he thought about it, maybe she thought of them as her family—the only family she and Mr. Engelmann had.

  When he had finished, Father Connelly gestured the congregation to come forward. “We will now form a procession starting with the front rows and going to the back until everyone who so wishes has paid their last respects to Anna. We will then be seated and Mr. Engelmann will say a few words. The ushers will direct the procession for the viewing.” As Father Connelly returned to his seat, the classical music Anna had so loved started up once more.

  Mr. Engelmann went up first. He stopped at the casket, reached out his hand and put it on top of Anna’s. He bent to kiss his wife then, wiping a single tear, walked around to the other end of the pew.

  Butterflies fluttered in Henry’s stomach as he moved slowly towards the open casket.

  “Oh, my gosh,” he whispered.

  Mrs. Engelmann was wearing a wedding dress. The net he’d seen earlier was a veil flowing down the sides of her face onto her shoulders. She looked very beautiful. So peaceful. Her skin held a luminous glow and a bit of rouge coloured her cheeks. Her hands were folded over her chest near her heart and, as if to complement the pose, the wooden cross of a rosary rested within them, the beads intertwined between white, delicate fingers.

  Henry looked down at Mrs. Engelmann. This was the last time he would see her. He didn’t know what to say to a dead person. Could she even hear him? He had often kissed her cheek at the end of their talks, but he didn’t know if he wanted his lips to touch her dead body now.

  Finally, he murmured, “Goodbye, Mrs. Engelmann. I really liked you. No—I loved you. You were so kind and generous. I’ll miss you.” For the first time since her death, tears welled up in his eyes and Henry was filled with such a oneness with Mrs. Engelmann. Without even thinking about it, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. It felt warm and soft, not cold and lifeless as it should. Somehow at that moment life and death merged, rising above the reality of what normally was. As Henry straightened, he noticed a little drop near where he had kissed her. Quickly, with the tip of his finger, he smoothed away the tear he had left behind.

  Henry walked back and sat next to Mr. Engelmann, who put an arm around him. Henry sat with his head down and sobbed quietly. He couldn’t understand how Mr. Engelmann could be so strong and show no sign of tears.

  It seemed the entire congregation wanted to pay their respects as those from the foyer followed those from within the sanctuary to the front of the chapel. When Henry looked back, it was impossible to tell where the line ended.

  Henry swivelled back around and stared at the coffin. As the procession continued, he realized how stuffy the chapel had become. He looked up at Mr. Engelmann; beads of perspiration dappled his forehead. The air grew staler as the heat and breath of the large gathering became nauseatingly close, pressing in on him. Henry began to feel sick, like he wanted to throw up. Suddenly there was a commotion behind him. He turned to see that an elderly lady had fainted. The two people on either side of her held her up as a third waved a booklet in front of her face. A few moments later, she revived.

  One of the ushers rushed to open the windows on the north side of the chapel. Another set up a fan in front of the door Father Connelly and Mr. Engelmann had come through earlier. Within minutes a cooling breeze wafted through the chapel.

  It took over forty-five minutes before the procession ended and the service had already lasted almost an hour and a half when Mr. Engelmann finally rose to speak. He peered out over the rim of his glasses and surveyed the congregation.

  He paused for the longest moment.

  “Anna, I’m sure, is very pleased and happy to see you all here tonight…and so many people. My, my…she has so many friends.” Looking at Anna’s coffin and then back to those assembled there, Mr. Engelmann continued, “Lying here before us is Anna’s mortal body. The one we knew and spoke to while she was with us. However, Anna’s spirit, her soul, the one the good Lord gave her when she was conceived in her mother’s womb, still lives on and, I believe, is here with us this evening. I believe she is looking down, surrounded by a choir of angels, and is very pleased and happy at what she is seeing. She touched so many people’s lives while she lived in service for the Lord. Many may ask, ‘What can the owner of a small grocery store do that is all that important?’ No job is unimportant if it is done in service of others for the Lord. Look around you. We are all witness to a simple life, very well lived.”

  A couple of “amens” rose from those gathered.

  “I don’t need to list Anna’s accomplishments, and she would be upset if I stood up here in front of you and did that. All any of us need do is look into our own hearts and it will be clearly evident, if you encountered Anna, what she has done for you.”

  Once again Mr. Engelmann glanced towards his wife.

  “I know it is the custom to buy as nice a casket as one can afford. This is the casket Anna wanted. She picked it out herself a long time ago. She has been ready to meet her Lord for a long time, and we openly and freely talked about it. Yes, Anna liked this casket, and a similar one is waiting for me.

  “We are simple people. We came into the world with nothing and we go out the same way. From dust we were created and to dust we shall return. The only difference between life and death is the split second when we move from an earthly life to a heavenly one. Our mortal bodies are only temporary, a stage of the eternal life our Lord offers us, along with the free will to choose how we will live it.

  “Over a lifetime we make thousands of decisions. We decide to live for the Lord or to live for ourselves. Hopefully, we choose wisely in the short time the Lord gives us so that when we leave we will make our final home with Him. Anna chose wisely. She was a good wife, a good friend, a good comforter, a good woman. She was a soldier for the Lord in every way. Many a time I would have chosen poorly, my vision clouded, but Anna’s example and soft words always steered me to the right path.

  “In the end, this is what we are here for. To serve and to love each other. And Anna has served and loved. This is her legacy. This is what she has left behind. What greater richness and treasure could anyone leave behind than a love for her fellow man?”

  Mr. Engelmann paused. “Anna is wearing a wedding gown. This is the same gown she wore at our wedding thirty-four years ago in Austria. She was so beautiful; I can see her walking down the aisle towards me as if it were yesterday. So full of life, so happy, so radiant. She glowed with an aura of light as only angels in heaven do. How fortunate a man I was then, and how fortunate I am today, to stand here and tell you of the happy life we lived.

  “There was never a day my Anna and I ended without a kiss or a hug. Any anger or disagreement disappeared with the setting sun. Each new day was a new beginning for Anna and me. We were both wise enough to practise what the Lord said, ‘Do not let the sun go down on your anger.’ He knows we should not fret or worry over yesterday. Today will have enough cares of its own.”

  Mr. Engelmann paused again, scanning the faces of the crowd. “Anna loved the Lord with all her heart, soul and mind, and she loved her neighbour as herself. She obeyed to the letter the two most important commandments that our Lord gave us. Even though she was married to me, she was first and foremost married to the Lord. She was His bride long before she ever met me. And so, my friends, I see it only fitting that my Anna wear her wedding gown. I had my Anna for thirty-four years and now she will see her groom in heaven. ‘The eye has not seen, or the ear has not heard, what is in store for those that love the Lord.’

  “Right now my Anna is experiencing the treasures heaven has prepared for her. She is looking down on all of us right now, loving and thanking us for being here together as one family, paying our respects to her for being such a worthy child of God.

  “Befo
re Anna passed on she gave me a letter to read at her funeral. I was going to read it tonight, but it is getting late. I will read her farewell letter to all of you at her funeral tomorrow.”

  He paused long enough to acknowledge all those in attendance, then finished, “Thank you so much for being here tonight. Anna and I love you all.”

  Mr. Engelmann returned to the pew and sat down as Father Connelly retook his place behind the podium.

  “Thank you for those thoughtful words, David. Our prayer evening is now over. However, as I mentioned earlier, David has asked me to provide time to anyone who wishes to make a comment or tell a brief story about their relationship with Anna. You may do so now.”

  From somewhere in the middle of the chapel, a lady rose and worked her way towards the front. She was dressed all in black and wore a black veil over her face so it was difficult to tell exactly who she was. Father Connelly greeted her and assisted her to the podium. He leaned forward into the microphone. “This is Mrs. Leibel.”

  “You may not all know me,” Mrs. Leibel began. “More than fifteen years ago my husband Tony passed away, leaving me with our young son. Johnny was a good boy but he had a lot of problems, especially at school. When he was sixteen, the other kids teased him about all the acne he had on his face. I told him not to worry about it, that he would soon outgrow it. One day I came home from buying groceries at Engelmann’s and I found my Johnny dead in his room. He had taken his own life. First Tony left me, and then our son John.”

  She paused to steady her voice, then went on. “The first person to come over and see me was Anna Engelmann. She helped me through the funeral and for days after prayed with me to accept this awful thing. What I would like to share is how Mrs. Engelmann always remembered my son from the day it happened until now. She always sent me a note or phoned me on the anniversary of Johnny’s death. She would tell me she had offered up a mass for Johnny, and then together we said a prayer.

  “While most people forgot a week or two after the funeral, Anna never did. She always remembered. She knew I would be grieving, especially on that day. She knew a mother never forgets her children and what happens to them. She was always with me in my grief, sharing my sorrow and heartache, encouraging me to go on and accept what had happened and to ask the Lord for healing.” Mrs. Leibel’s voice cracked and tears came to her eyes. Father Connelly moved to go to her, but then she spoke again.

  “I remember as if it were yesterday. A few years ago, two days before what would have been Johnny’s eighteenth birthday, I was feeling very sad…” Voice trembling, she added softly, “I missed my Johnny so much. Anna took me into the back room of the store, and there among all the boxes, she sat me down on one of the sturdy boxes…” with a small smile, she said, “I was heavier then—and she knelt down in front of me and prayed to the Lord with all her heart. I remember her saying to Jesus that she would not get up until he delivered me from the awful anguish I had…and at that moment a healing and calmness I have never known came over me. The Lord granted me peace. He filled my heart with a spirit of forgiveness for what Johnny had done, and He freed me from the anger I had towards God Himself for allowing such a thing to happen.

  “From that day to this, I have been at peace. All that I could give to Anna was a hug. And that was all she ever wanted. I could see a great joy in her eyes and knew how happy it made her to see me at peace. As Mr. Engelmann said, Anna was a soldier for the Lord.” Mrs. Leibel nodded and dabbed at her nose with a handkerchief as she stepped away from the podium.

  A well-dressed young man got up from his seat. He walked confidently up to the microphone and adjusted it as if he did so all the time.

  “Hello, my name is Irvin Goronic. Before I moved away I lived on the north side of Victoria Avenue on Atkinson Street. Many of you may know my grandmother who lives just a block away from the Engelmanns. One day Mrs. Engelmann was alone in the store. Mr. Engelmann was either away or upstairs, and I thought I could easily steal a chocolate bar. Thinking Mrs. Engelmann wasn’t looking, I put it in my pocket, pretended to look for something, then made my way to the door. Before I got there, however, Mrs. Engelmann called my name.

  “When I turned, Mrs. Engelmann was already standing behind me. I will never understand how quickly she got there. She put her arm over my shoulder and asked, ‘Irvin, did you forget to pay for that chocolate bar?’ I remember to this day how my face burned. ‘Oh, yes, I did forget, Mrs. Engelmann,’ I said. But then I didn’t have any money to pay for it.

  “Then she told me to come with her. I can tell you, I was worried! We walked back into the storage area, and like Mrs. Leibel before me, she sat me down on an old box. I thought for sure I was going to get the strap. But Mrs. Engelmann just sat on the box next to me, looked me in the eyes and spoke words I’ll never forget:

  “ ‘You know, Irvin, taking things that don’t belong to you or that you don’t pay for is stealing. Stealing is dishonest. It’s not only a sin, but more important, you are putting shame on yourself. If you do it once, you will do it again, and each time you do it, you are forming a very bad habit that is a black mark against your character. I can see in your eyes Irvin, you are a good boy. You have such a nice, honest face. I would like to see that the inside of you is even nicer than what I see on the outside. Do you understand?’ ”

  “I could only nod. Then she said, ‘If at any time you want a chocolate bar, I want you to come up to me and say, “Mrs. Engelmann, could I have one? I don’t want to take it dishonestly.” And I will give it to you. Here, Irvin, I will give you this chocolate bar as a gift because I know from now on you are going to be an honest young man.’

  “I remember asking her if she was going to tell my parents. She told me it was just between us. I was hesitant, but when she nodded at me, I put the chocolate bar she had given me into my pocket and walked out into the store. As I got closer to the front door, I suddenly stopped and went back to the candy display and put the chocolate bar back on the shelf. And when I left Mrs. Engelmann caught up to me and put her arm around me again. ‘See, Irvin, I was right. You are a very good and honest boy. I am so proud of you.’ And then she gave me a hug.

  “I’m twenty-four and I have had a lot of hugs in my time, but I will never forget the warmth of the one Mrs. Engelmann gave me that day.”

  Like Mrs. Leibel, Irvin’s eyes welled up with tears. “Whenever I came into the grocery store,” he went on, “Mrs. Engelmann always greeted me with a big smile, as if it were meant just for me. And when I walked up and down the aisles, getting things my mom asked me to get, she’d often turn her back or go into the storage room. She was telling me she trusted me and that I didn’t have to be watched. She taught me to be honest from the inside and not from the outside.

  “Before I leave, I want to say, from the day Mrs. Engelmann gave me that hug, and because of the way she treated me in the days that followed, I have been an honest man. In fact, my company trusts me so much I am the youngest executive officer they have ever appointed. I had to come back today to pay my respect to the Engelmanns for helping to form my character.”

  As the young man stepped down from the podium, silence fell upon the congregation, except for the odd sniffle. It was broken when Mr. Engelmann began to clap. Others joined in and soon the entire congregation was clapping. Such an upbeat display of emotion was unprecedented at a prayer service!

  And so it went, one person after another standing and sharing what Mrs. Engelmann had done for them. It didn’t even seem like a prayer service anymore. People clapped, laughed and cried with joy.

  Henry’s favourite story came from two boys he knew. They told about the store’s squeaky floorboards and how Mr. Engelmann used the sounds to keep track of them. They would deliberately go to different parts of the store and squeak all the boards at the same time, totally confusing Mr. Engelmann. Everyone laughed, even Mr. Engelmann. But Mrs. Engelmann had walked up and down the aisles to keep
them on the straight and narrow. They were glad they had stopped doing it out of respect for both Mr. and Mrs. Engelmann, not wanting to add to their troubles when she became ill.

  Although others wanted to share, it was almost ten-thirty by the time Father Connelly decided to end the service. He came to the podium and just as he opened his mouth to speak a dismissal, he stopped and stared down the aisle. “Perhaps just one more remembrance before we conclude the service,” he said.

  Everyone turned and no one was more surprised than Henry to see Gary coming up to the mike. Henry’s eyes stayed glued to his best friend as he made his way to the podium. My God, he’s brave. Henry’s heart went out to his friend. He was so overwhelmed by his friend’s courage at getting up to speak, goosebumps spread instantly across both forearms.

  Gary threw a furtive glance at Henry, nervously adjusted the microphone and then spoke.

  “For most of the evening I’ve wanted to come up and tell you about Mrs. Engelmann but was too afraid, too nervous about talking in front of such a large crowd. But then I remembered what she told me one time: ‘Never be afraid to stand up for what you believe…your guardian angel is always with you, ready to lift you up. I knew then I had come up here because I believe Mrs. Engelmann was a very holy person filled with peace. She has been such an example to me in believing and having faith in God. During the summer when I worked for the Engelmanns I saw time and time again how, in spite of her illness, she helped others—always through the power of Jesus. I have witnessed people healed and transformed after a visit with her. Her example and her strong faith in Jesus instilled a love for Jesus in me too. I decided I want to help people like she did, and several times we talked about me maybe going into the priesthood. I’m still not sure what I want to do but this I know: because of Mrs. Engelmann’s example I want to commit my life to the Lord. I have good parents and I love my mom, but Mrs. Engelmann was like another mother to me…”