The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  “It is a very beautiful letter, Henry, filled with love and yearning just as yours were to Jenny. But for some reason, it was not meant to be. One reason is that you found Julean, a lovely girl whom you loved very much, and look at all the fine children you and Julean had and raised…”

  “When Julean came into my life I loved her deeply and considered my relationship with Jenny over. And you’re right, I had a very rich and wonderful marriage with Julean and together we raised four beautiful children. But after finding that letter and with Julean gone now and feeling lonely, well, I guess one never gets over their first love. It just seems that all those feelings I had, came back so strongly. I just had to try and find Jenny, or at least find out if there was the possibility that she was free and unattached.”

  “I know how you feel, Henry. When Anna passed away, I was so lonely for the longest time…and even, today, I still think on her and wish she were here to talk to. But this is another matter, now, we both know Jenny is married and as you have decided, it’s best to leave it alone.”

  They fell into a long silence. Henry knew that Father was reflecting on the matter and that the discussion was not yet over. He sensed Father’s uneasiness and waited patiently for him to express his concerns.

  “Perhaps, Henry,” Father added finally, “It may be a good idea not to carry the letter with you anymore. To keep entertaining something that has no future is not good. This could easily fill you with regret, ifs and buts, and might lead to future action which may cause problems. Put it back into Mary’s treasure chest. She made the right decision at the time to do so and it may be wise for you to follow her example. Put it where it belongs, it is a treasure of the heart and it belongs in your treasure chest, now.”

  “Yes, I know you are right, but somehow I just can’t let go of it. And look, Father…” Henry said excitedly, as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out a pewter angel hanging at the end of a chain around his neck. “Look at the angel Jenny sent me in this letter. It is identical to the one I sent to her only a few days before, that same Christmas in 1956!”

  Father glanced cursorily at the angel. Henry could see Father’s concern and tucked the angel back inside his shirt. He also took the letter from Father’s extended hand and slipped it back into his pocket. “There is one other thing, Father…”

  Father turned and gazed at Henry once more. The concerned look he had over the matter had still not left him. “And, what might that be, my son?”

  “Remember when we packaged and shipped all the letters I had written to Jenny in care of Mr. Sarsky’s office?”

  “Yes, I recall it very well, Henry.”

  “When I spoke with Elaine, she told me she took the entire box down to the basement in the office building and burned them all in the incinerator. Mr. Sarsky had instructed her to do so. I couldn’t believe my ears when she told me that, Father. How could he have done such an awful thing?”

  Father shifted in his seat. Father’s voice was soft now, tender and came from within his caring heart.

  “Henry, I have told you this many times before and it is important for you to fully understand it now. All of us see things from our world, the reality we have created for ourselves. What seems so very wrong to us can be so very right in the eyes of someone else. We all make decisions based upon our own values, beliefs, conditioning, and experiences.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Sarsky’s past life up to that point in time was such that they decided it was for the best to stop communication between you and their daughter. It may not have been the decision that I would have made, but I had a different past than the Sarskys and so my reaction would have been different.

  “Don’t be controlled by another person’s reality or blame them for it. It will rob you of joy and give even more power to what they have done over you. Don’t you see, Henry, each moment can be a new beginning! We can choose to accept, forgive and let go and live fully and freely in our precious present moments. Don’t crowd your life with yesterday’s baggage or what might have been. Don’t be controlled by others decisions. Live fully in the now and you will always have a wonderful past and an unbelievably good future.”

  Father was on a roll and wanted to make certain Henry didn’t regress back to an unforgiving heart over all this. It was as if the Holy Spirit was constantly whispering thoughts of wisdom to him. His words hit home just like they did in his school of life behind the grocery store. Henry smiled. The sun streamed in through the open sunroof of the SUV, just like it did on them back then when they had sat on the weathered grey crates. How easily it was to succumb to old thoughts and ways of reacting, spending countless precious minutes, hours, and days trapped in feelings of resentment, self pity and anger and all for naught over another person’s reality and beliefs over which he had no control.

  And just as they pulled up to the care home, Father reminded Henry of the most important lesson of all, “This is why, Henry, it is so important to pray and meditate every morning. In the stillness and silence you will touch within you the kingdom of the Lord. He will reveal the thoughts and actions you need to address not only in the silence but in His word. The Bible has stood the test of time and we can trust every word. Its message is clear: to forgive and be free of the past so you can love. That is the key to inner peace, to a happy life.”

  “You know, Father, last Sunday I took the dogs down to the creek and visited the Poustinia. It was such a beautiful day and as I sat on the deck I became overwhelmed by the calmness and beauty of nature. I can’t remember when I was so deeply filled with peace.”

  “You tapped into the Creator of all things. The source of love, joy and beauty. Each morning, I try to fill myself with that peace, but I must admit it is when I spend three days in the Poustinia that my spirit is completely renewed. It is as you say, in the calm, stillness, and beauty of nature we come face to face with our Lord. We commune in the silence and the wonder of His creations.

  “Perhaps, Henry, the Lord gave you a taste of what you will find if you take a retreat with Him.” Father winked at Henry then got out of the car.

  Henry watched as his teacher walked up the path to the care home and entered. Father was so filled with the peace of the Lord that an aura of light surrounded him. He had wanted to tell Father about the house he purchased, but decided to leave it for their meeting next Sunday. Talking about Jenny’s letter had been enough for today.

  Father thought about his conversation with Henry as he stood in front of the dresser in his bedroom. That entire experience of the letters and what occurred had not been the best for him. Perhaps he would offer tomorrow morning’s mass up for Henry and ask the Lord to give him strength and wisdom to forgive and move on.

  Absently, he removed the bulge of papers and notes he had collected over the past several weeks from his trouser pockets. Most of them were reminders of what he needed to do, who to see, who to talk to. As he sorted through the papers, he came across the name of the person who the care home director asked him to see during his visit to the hospital.

  Ah, yes, tomorrow I will see her.

  Lord, I pray that Your healing power and love wash over Marjorie Hamilton.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Hello, nurse, could you please tell me what room Marjorie Hamilton is in?”

  “Certainly, Father…I don’t see her name as being registered here.”

  “I believe she is being treated for cancer. Maybe she has passed—”

  “I will call up to oncology.” After a few moments, the nurse addressed Father again. “She was here, but was transferred to the Santa Maria Care Home. I hope you didn’t come all this way to see her.”

  “Well, I did come to see her, but there is also another patient I wanted to visit.”

  It was almost 5:00 p.m. when Father left the hospital. The cab was already waiting for him. They would be serving dinner soon, and he had hoped to work on his “The Forgotten”
speech and talk to Father Knuka about his and Henry’s idea for drawing attention to the plight of the elderly. He would have to visit the lady with cancer tomorrow.

  The next day, Father reviewed his visitation schedule at the Santa Maria Home.

  First on his list was Mr. Miller who had just returned from the Grey Nun’s Hospital following removal of a tumour from his prostate gland.

  An hour later, Father finished visiting with George and Edna on the fourth floor. Marjorie Hamilton was next on his list and, luckily, was next door to Edna. After uttering a brief prayer and taking a deep breath, he entered the room.

  She was sleeping. He stepped closer debating if he should wake her. She looked thin and frail, her skin pallid yet she was still quite an attractive lady. Her bandana had slipped off and Father noticed that she was bald. She looked so peaceful and not in pain as so many of the cancer patients he visited were. As he was about to turn and leave, Jenny opened her eyes. She blinked several times.

  “Who are you?” Jenny asked, her voice croaky and dry. She raised her head, “Oh, you’re a priest! Are you here to give me the last rites!”

  “No, no…I was about to leave. I didn’t want to wake you. I usually come to the Santa Maria Home twice a week and visit as many patients as I can just to say hello and see if there is anything I can do for you.”

  Jenny smiled, “That is so nice of you, Father.”

  “So, how are you feeling, Mrs. Hamilton?”

  “Oh, please call me, Jenny. Mrs. Hamilton sounds too formal and life is much too short for such distant greetings.”

  “Well, you can call me David if you wish.”

  “No, I like Father, it makes me feel more like I am in God’s hands.”

  Father smiled, “Did you say, Jenny? I note on the list it’s Marjorie.” Father thought he better make certain.

  “Yes, Marjorie is my first name and Jenny my second. It’s just that I prefer my second name.”

  “I see. Well, then, we shall call you Jenny. It reminds me of a very special young girl I once knew a long time ago.”

  Jenny winked at Father. “Well, she mustn’t have been special enough to keep you out of the priesthood.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it in that sense,” He was about to explain that the Jenny he was reminded of was Henry’s sweetheart. “Oh, we’d better not get into that. Tell me, how are you doing?”

  “Well, Father David, I really wish I could say ‘great,’ but the truth of the matter is that I am not doing so well. I’ve tried to fight this silly disease, but it just keeps coming back, and I get weaker all the time. But, thank God, I am still here and I try to make the best of each day.”

  Father didn’t say anything, he just smiled.

  “What parish are you from?”

  “Oh, I don’t belong to a parish, anymore. They kicked me out a few months ago and actually I live in a care home now. The Nunnery Care Home.”

  “Isn’t that something, I was in there but only for a week. I was too sick and too much of a challenge for them.”

  “Well, Jenny, they are more equipped here to provide better care.”

  “Yes, I know, and the nurses are so nice. Actually I feel blessed to be here.”

  “Do you have any family?”

  “Not in Regina. I do have a son in Ottawa. He was here for a visit a little while back with his wife and my grandson.” When Jenny spoke of her grandson, she smiled and her blue eyes lit up and came to life.

  There was such a familiarity about her. She reminded Father of someone, but he couldn’t place her.

  “It’s unfortunate that they don’t live closer. Do you have relatives, here?”

  “No, just a lot of very good friends, they are always coming to visit me.”

  “That’s good.”

  A nurse walked into the room carrying a tray full of small white paper cups.

  “Hi, Jenny, it’s time for your medication.”

  “Well, I best better be going, Jennifer. I am back this way, again, next week, is it okay if I drop in then for a few minutes?”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful, Father. Perhaps sometime in the near future you will hear my confession, if you still do that.”

  “Yes, yes I do, Jenny, I would be happy to hear your confession, tell me when you are ready.” Father smiled.

  “You will never be the same after you hear what I have to tell you,” Jenny quipped.

  “No, Jenny, I’m certain there is nothing in that mind of yours that I have not heard before in my lifetime.”

  “Don’t be too certain, now,” Jenny said, again, with a wink.

  Father smiled. She was gravely ill and yet she exuded such life. Father turned and left the room, carrying with him such a strange feeling that somehow he had met Jenny before, but when, and where?

  Yes, she reminded him of the scripture he likes so much, Proverbs 13:15, a happy heart makes a cheerful face!

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Camilla stared at the large cardboard box for over fifteen minutes. For almost a week she had stood at the door to the basement unable to go down. She knew her father’s strong box was packed away in one of the cardboard boxes that the movers had delivered last year from Victoria when she and Jeremy cleared out her father’s home after his death.

  Finally, Camilla mustered up enough courage to at least go downstairs and look at the box. She took the day off from work so she would be alone while Jeremy was gone and Josh at day care. Slowly she made her way to the basement her heart beginning to race faster and faster.

  Camilla felt certain the metal box contained the information she desperately wanted to know, yet she was so afraid of what she might find. Ever since she had married Jeremy, she’d always felt uncomfortable in his father’s presence because of the way her father-in-law stared at her. She reminded him of someone he once knew and later learned that it was his girlfriend named Jennifer.

  She had gone over this so many times in her mind and with Jeremy. And with her growing feeling that she was adopted, the matter became more complicated and serious. The facts seemed to support her concern. She recalled Grandma Pederson saying Jenny left for Ottawa in 1956, two weeks after school started and never heard from again. If Jenny was pregnant she would have given birth in the spring of 1957 the exact year and time of year she was born.

  It was clear to Camilla as well that Henry still cares for Jenny. He just has that look in his eyes. It must have been quite the summer romance. It seemed very probable to Camilla that Jennifer carried Henry’s child which could possibly be her!

  If that were the case…Jeremy would be her half brother…! The very thought sent chills up and down Camilla’s spine. It could be devastating to have such close family ties. The blood relationship could have severe consequences on their children. She wondered how this might even affect Joshua!

  The only consolation in this scenario was Peter. The moment she saw him she felt an eerie feeling that she knew him or was related to him in some way. She saw her features in him; his eyes, and although his hair colour was not blonde, his skin colour was still very similar, as was the shape of this mouth and how his lips turned up when he smiled. She couldn’t stop staring at him and burning his image into her mind.

  Could he somehow be related to her? Could he be her father? Camilla now dared to ask herself. At least if he were, it would be better than having her husband’s father be the one!

  Her biggest fear was that the metal box would identify Henry as the father. She would sooner not know, than to know that really was the case. “Camilla, you are being so silly! This is all conjecture! You may be torturing yourself over nothing! You just have to get to the bottom of all this. It could all just prove to be a figment of your imagination!”

  Camilla inched her way to the cardboard boxes that had the contents marked on the outside. There were five boxes in the basement and this
one contained the metal box.

  Camilla whispered a prayer to her guardian angel to protect her, to guide her and to help her.

  Camilla cut the string and the flaps opened slightly. She opened them all the way and at the very top in the far corner of the box was her father’s metal strong box. She lifted it out and carried it upstairs.

  Once again, Camilla agonized over whether she should open it or not. She sat down at the kitchen table and just stared and prayed that whatever she would find would not include her father-in-law.

  She checked the kitchen clock. It was almost three thirty and Jeremy would be home in a couple of hours along with Joshua. If she was going to look, she would have to do it now.

  Camilla stood next to the table and opened the box. One by one she took everything out and laid it on the table. The first item she grasped looked like some kind of certificate. It was hers…

  Camilla Sarsky

  Born May 24, 1957

  This was almost the same as the one she had except for the last name. On hers it was Breckhart.

  Camilla let out a sigh. She fully expected that she was adopted and rather than being upset by this revelation, she felt relieved to finally know the truth.

  And how could she be angry or upset?

  She had been so loved and brought up with such caring parents. And perhaps, what was helping her to be so understanding was that she had met so many girls in her counseling work who were also adopted and found out either this way or by someone telling them.

  Camilla was also aware of the general practice at the time to keep everything in such secrecy. Parents were almost advised to keep things private unless the child asked and even then, was it wise to tell the child? Fortunately, thinking on that matter had changed so much.

  One thing was clear; she was adopted. The name Camilla Sarsky and date confirm that this was her birth certificate.