Angel Tears

"We shall find peace. We shall hear angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds."
--Anton Chekov

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The small girl watched as the casket was lowered into the earth. Slowly the black and grey clad congregation left the cemetery, leaving roses by the grave. Soon they had all disappeared into the mist. The little girl was still there, staring at the flowers glistening with the drops of rain splashing on the petals. The young very inexperienced preacher walked slowly, eyeing the girl. He had never seen her before, normally he would have gone over and talked to her but he was in a slightly fowl mood. He turned to walk up the hill to the church house.
"Why does it always have to rain at these things?" The preacher whispered to himself.
"The Angels" The preacher turned, stunned to see it was the girl who had spoken. She looked up at him with deep, clear black eyes, her ebony hair framing her porcelain face. The preacher stopped ascending the hill.
"Beg your pardon" he tried to be polite, but his voice still had a edge that only slightly masked his mood
"When it rains... The Angels are crying" Her voice caressed every word that came from her rosebud mouth. The preacher raised an eye brow. "Why would they be crying?" He almost snapped. The girl smiled gently
"Why must mortals always think of death as an ending... The Angels are welcoming back one of their own. They cry with tears of joy for the return of an Angel who has gone through the trials of birth and death... Do not be sad for your father, he is with his own kind" The young preacher gasped "Who are you?" The girl smiled and began to turn away "Do not worry for your father, he is safe with me..."
The preacher started after the girl but he tripped, he landed on his side. He quickly got up and looked around for the girl, but she was no where to be seen.


"He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of Angels."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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