I'm not sure of the existence of angels, just as I imagine most people - entities of light energy invested in protecting, to lead souls to the afterlife, confer by their mere presence, beauty Eden.
But I strongly believe in the existence of people-angels. Top put the plague, says about the people that gentle, warm, loving, generous, angels, patient, conscientious people who make life to exist and ensures harmony. I am fortunate to be protected and loved by such a being of the light soul so modest that it will refuse to recognize these lines.
Is a person whose biological age is absolutely irrelevant as she thinks feels and acts youthfully constant. Joking rare, but it amuses the infantile gestures of those around them; It makes its countless pursued plans and carries them out stubbornly. There is something you do not know or can not do if she proposed. At the job solves problems firmly. On the family with kindness and understanding. Always have the recipe right proper remedy the circumstance and suffering, be it body, soul, and mind. It's impossible to know, or at least started to change a few words with her, and not fall in love immediately and permanently voice that goes up and down in tone, unexpected bright eyes that you heat the soul of perfume discreetly, but so overwhelming and staff. It's a perfume that has nothing to do with containers with bizarre shapes and bright caps from flowing effluvium, sometimes unbearably poignant. It's just a fragrance that surrounds wherever she goes, I feel it when I get in the car or when she opens her wardrobe when she takes off his jacket and puts a scarf when. An almost imperceptible scent, which follows so closely that not once was stopped in the street and asked what the house's perfume...
We know each other for a long time. She knows me even before I made an eye on this world, which makes me sometimes to wonder if the angels there, however, with truly. I will never know with certainty how things are safe by only one fact: I had damn luck! Without her ... I can not describe what I can not even imagine. Because it gives meaning to the world in motion, it is why someone who does not want any to breathe, however, might even try. It is the only creature who banishes my subconscious vocabulary and concepts such as "impossible" or "fear." She talks to a tamer of wild horses tact, uttering words like harmony, stop trembling and deep waters dissipate darkness and dirty that I often feel like drowning. Even if it is not physically with me always, it is the solution to any dilemma. Things are, from this point of view, quite simple: if the problem has no solution, she already knows or will soon imagine; if the problem is resolved, then it will entrust me of this, so in none of the cases there is no point me shake in vain.
I learned everything that makes me human (well, sort of, a form of existence almost sociable, but hey ! nor angels can not do the impossible). Has turned me over the years in a full tolerable, domesticated me. Whenever she could, cracked walls that were blocking my passage stopped the abysses which threatened me with their depth, the ruthlessly cleared forests where I would have been lost. Thanks to her I did.
I always assumed that the list of responsibilities, besides the terrible steadfast love to me and protect me from all evil world duty to forgive myself was among the first. I have no idea if, when incarnated in light Divinity endowed it with a reservoir of forgiveness (a kind of magic pouch which remove one dust tolerance, as you remove the salt shaker a pinch of salt) the fact is that to everyone, her forgiveness is infinite. Perhaps among all gifts, this is the most valuable, because it defines. Forgive us all that loud, sharp words that can not be taken back, and worn until they become blunt and generating less pain, appalling shallowness, lack of practical intelligence or empathy, crass stupidity. Even when I feel useless, a trait she finds that to rise to the rank quality and praise me. She who has not absolutely never violated a promise, I managed to persuade the rest of us, let us respect. She showed me how a promise not only if you believe that you can accomplish and showed me how a person can live a life free to broke his word. For Earth might think at some point to come out of orbit and the sun to rise from the north, but it seems unacceptable to me that it does not respect what she promised.
It's so beautiful and deeply human, be read concentrated a book (so concentrated that a World War household can consume around her without wrest even a look), be prepared macaroons (and we announce seriously it prepares to give the tray down, to give them their snouts sweet walnut shape known) that knits (intertwined, then angry and loosen plaiting until the thread of wool is persuaded to become part of a hoodie or gloves). Everything she touches her hand comes to life, color and vibrates. Being a divine creation, away from Paradise to teach us and us to be bright, it was natural to create here on Earth, a replica of the birthplace. That is a trivial and dilapidated old house has become a sacred space for me, a place to focus the vastness of positive energy. A few days spent there are a string of jewels magic, a precious gift to keep hiding the neck, which melts the heart, occasionally, one bead, enough to help me get up, shake the dust of suffering and to continue my journey through life. Equally miraculous is the garden and orchard, in which plants breathe ordained by her watchful eye. Dozens of roses caught with glass, lilies giants, generations of colorful tulips and daffodils scented, born of bulbs touched by her hands, marigold, chrysanthemums and flowers snapdragon planted in long hours of sitting with your knees on the ground, cared then drag in a constant battle against weeds. Could at any moment to make an outline of how they have placed trees in the orchard, because she him put on each, it was argued, if it was felt that it was caught, and it was forgiven when he made the first flowers.
I love most she s hands. You'd think he keeps her soul in them, so are soft and delicate. Long, thin fingers describe when speaking, gestures diaphanous, like a ballet thoughts that come to life sound. The skin is fine, so she touched her forehead has the effect of forces that calm, a sudden fury of the waves of the mind. An enchanted fluid flowing out of her hands, caressing, bringing sleep, relieving pain.
Yet how likely it would still be impossible? She embodies almost everything people imagine angels. It is one of those people who protect us and lead us through this world, which by their mere presence gives a restful beauty. And in relation to me, possessing including the ability to read my moods and thoughts, desires sense to me even before being formulated. We have eyes communicate almost telepathically, and we often find ourselves saying the same words. Sometimes, jokingly, half seriously, touching her shoulder blades researcher, then I look into her eyes and wonder where she lost wings. Mom smiles with a twinkle in the eye and my ambiguous answer that and just hid them because it confuses gardening.
That's my mother!
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HAVE A NICE DAY!
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