The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

It was all there!

  He visualized and savoured each flashing memory as he read. He was so elated he thought for certain he would float and then he read an entry about their parting in September. Oh the aching pain and sorrow that she described over their parting…it stabbed his heart, too.

  He dropped into his chair; weakness crashed down upon him as he felt the loss and sadness sweep throughout his being. Her words of how heartbroken she was to move away almost split his heart in two. The pages blurred as tears gushed out from a new level of depth that had been buried since then.

  A piece of his heart had been buried there, too.

  The rueful, agonizing days, months and years that followed that wonderful summer, never to hear from his beloved again so overwhelmed him at that moment his body began to shut down. He sat still, motionless for the longest time until his mind was completely devoid of all thought. His breathing was slowing and so quiet the only sign that he was still in the land of the living was the slight rising and falling of his chest. It seemed as if all the human energy he possessed had dissipated and if he were to go on being his strength would have to come from another source.

  As he sank deeper and deeper into the stillness of his mind a thought formed seeking expression, while simultaneously an image of someone evolved at the same time. Both were blurry, vague, and distant like a telescope gradually coming into focus. The sound advanced faster and the word “quick” …no… “quickly” formed in Henry’s conscious mind. It repeated itself over and over again, getting stronger and stronger, the repetitions in tune with the faint sound of the back and forth swing of the pendulum in the grandfather clock just around the corner in the dining room. Quickly…quickly…quickly, over and over it chimed. He felt helpless to change the pattern. It seemed as if he had lost control of his thoughts.

  He remained surprisingly calm and followed the flow of whatever it was that was happening then, suddenly, the remaining sentence came into his mind along with an image of …Julean. There she stood in front of him with smiling happy eyes beckoning him.

  “Come, Hank, I will take you to your first love.” Julean reached out her hand and then… he heard his first love…“Quickly, hold my hand!”

  And as he had so many times during that memorable summer, Henry thrust his hand out to his beloved…but it passed clear through Julean’s hand and came crashing down on his lap. It brought him back to the reality of the moment.

  “My God, Marjorie…Jenny, is in the care home critically ill and here I am feeling sorry for myself. What’s wrong with me!?”

  His lackluster eyes began to flash once more. Henry jumped to his feet as a burst of adrenalin exploded through him. He quickly slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket as he raced to the SUV.

  Within minutes, a trail of dust swirled behind him on the dirt road leading to the main highway. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and fumbled for the pewter angel hanging at the end of the chain around his neck. It wasn’t the angel he had in mind when he brought it to his lips and kissed it, it was Jenny’s lips he was searching for. It seemed inconceivable that the angel he received from Jenny was identical to the angel he had given her.

  Yet it had happened!

  “Please hang on, Jenny, I’m coming,” he whispered. “And, thank you, Julean, I know it is you along with Jenny’s and my dear guardian angels who are making this all happen. Thank you for bringing us back together fulfilling our heart’s desire!

  This is all so unbelievable!

  Buying the house with everything in it…I just knew it was a special spirit who owned it.

  It was my heart, though, that knew it was you, Jenny!”

  Henry turned onto the main paved highway and stomped on the accelerator. The front end of the SUV lifted as it shot down the highway leaving a layer of scorching rubber on the pavement. Within seconds, the speedometer had launched past the posted 110 km/h limit, trembling.

  “Ease up, for God’s sake, Henry, or you’re going to end up where Marjorie is heading before she does.” The thought only made him press the accelerator harder.

  It would be a catastrophe if Jenny died before he saw her!

  Father Engelmann! Maybe he could help Jenny! As he weaved dangerously between lanes and zoomed by frustratingly slower vehicles, Henry flipped open his car phone and called Father’s direct line.

  Father had returned from the hospital over an hour ago and tried to rest, but he was just too distraught. He finished reading his breviary and was now on his knees asking the Lord for forgiveness. Ever since Jenny gave him the envelope to deliver to her lawyer, he was tempted to open it to learn the identity of her daughter and first love. He so wanted to grant Jenny’s final wish, yet he knew it was wrong to open someone’s mail. Even a venial sin was mortal to him, and was deeply sorry for entertaining the temptation and not trusting his Lord to deal with the matter.

  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding,” was a passage Father uttered under his breath when the phone rang.

  “It will be the hospital. My dear Jenny must be gone.”

  Father hesitantly picked up the phone and braced himself for the worst.

  “Father!”

  Father jerked his head back, as his ears rang with Henry’s voice.

  “Yes, yes, what is it, Henry?”

  “The lady whose house I bought on Hill Avenue is really Jenny Sarsky. I’m on my way to the Santa Maria Home to see her. I found Marjorie’s diary in the house, yesterday, and have been reading the entries and just this morning I read how we met in your store and the summer we spent together before she left for Ottawa. Last night, too, I had a dream that Marjorie was Camilla, but really she is Marjorie, I mean Jenny, they just look like Camilla. And…and then the thought to quickly hold her hand popped into my mind…That’s what Jenny always used to say to me when we took a walk over 30 years ago, and…it was Julean who reminded me of it…”

  “Hold on, Henry.” Henry seemed incoherent; all tangled up in his words and wasn’t making any sense. All this talk about dreaming, thoughts popping into his head that were 30 years old. When he and Henry had talked, the other day, Henry had admitted that he might be losing touch with reality. And now he was making the lady who used to own the house on Hill Avenue to be Jenny.

  Has he lost his mind?

  “Henry,” Father finally said, “what is this about a diary and who is this Marjorie?”

  “That’s the lady that owns the house on Hill Avenue, or used to own the house, until I bought it.” And before Father could ask another question that might snap Henry out of this foolish talk, Henry prattled on.

  “The entries in the diary confirm that she really likes to be called Jenny rather than Marjorie. Jenny is her middle name. I now know what the J stands for. Her husband always liked her first name, Marjorie, and said she should always sign her legal documents as Marjorie and not Jenny. That’s why on the deed she used her first name, Marjorie. Marjorie Hamilton.”

  Out of all that, only the name Marjorie Hamilton got Father’s attention.

  “Who did you say, Henry?”

  “Marjorie. Marjorie is Jenny.”

  “No, no, her last name.”

  “Oh, Hamilton, it’s Marjorie Hamilton.”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, pray for us,” Father whispered. “Henry, that’s the lady I am seeing at the Santa Maria Care Home! I remember seeing it on her chart when I first visited her. I started to call her Marjorie, but she wanted me to call her Jenny. And… Ach, mein lieber Gott, my good Lord, Henry, something has always bothered me about her. She always looked so familiar, like I knew her from the past. Her eyes, the sparkle in her soft blue eyes, yes…perhaps it is her.”

  “You mean you have been visiting Jenny and you didn’t know it!? And you didn’t tell me!?” Henry exclaimed, almost jumping through the phone.

  “He
nry, people change, and she is so sick and has lost her hair and… who would even suspect or remotely think that this same lady could possibly be the girl of your youth, your Jenny?”

  Oh, Lord, it is Henry whom she desires to kiss. There was no need to look into the envelope!

  Forgive me for doubting and thank you for sparing me from sin. Your ways are not our ways and I trust this whole matter will turn out for the good!

  “Father, Father, are you still there?”

  “Yes, yes, Henry, I am still here, I am listening…”

  “Oh, Father, everything is making sense, now. When I took Jenny to Balfour Collegiate that very first day I met her, to register for high school, the secretary couldn’t find her application form because it was not under Jenny Sarsky, but her first name. Jenny told the secretary she preferred to be called by her second name. I meant to ask her what her first name was, but I forgot to. Now after all these years, I know. It was Marjorie Jenny Sarsky! Had I known her name was really Marjorie, I might have made the connection sooner.”

  Goose bumps prickled up and down both Henry and Father’s spines.

  “And, don’t you see, Father, how Julean and our guardian angels brought us together? How I bought the house rather than Jeremy. How everything in the house appealed to me as if I had purchased almost every item. And the books she read, Father, well, I have most of them on my bookshelves.

  “But it was the angel in the backyard that I just know is a miracle, Father. The other day I noticed a bouquet of flowers in it and they were as fresh looking as if they had been picked that day and placed in there!”

  Father was still reeling from the fact that he had visited Jenny for months and never realized that it was Henry’s Jenny.

  Oh, let it not be too late.

  He had already administered the last rites and for all he knew she may already be in God’s care.

  “Henry!” Now it was Father who shouted into the phone.

  Henry almost dropped his car phone.

  “What is it, Father?”

  “You must go at once and see her. So often she spoke of her first love and prayed fervently to be kissed before she passed on. It is you, Henry, she so desires. If only I would have known.”

  Tears rose in Henry’s eyes. “Please pray, Father, that it is not too late.”

  It suddenly occurred to Henry to ask about her husband. She is married and has a son. “What is her husband like, Father? Have you met him?”

  “No, no, Henry, that’s fine, she is not married,” Father quickly replied wanting to reassure Henry that his hopes and thoughts were fine.

  “But, Father, Elaine told me she is married! Oh my God, Father, for a moment there I was confused. Just the other day I read that Marjorie divorced her husband. But it was really Jenny.”

  “Yes, that is correct. She was married and after they divorced she moved to Regina.”

  Father could only imagine the expression on Henry’s face turning from total dejection to one of elation. The sudden roar of Henry’s engine on the phone confirmed Father’s instincts.

  “My God, Father, this is all so incredible. When did she move back to Regina?”

  “I believe she said last spring.”

  “Did she come into my gallery or café?”

  “I don’t know, Henry, she never said.”

  “She probably didn’t. I would have known if she had.”

  “I am glad you are going directly there. She is gravely ill, Henry,” Father added, to stress the urgency of the situation and yet hesitated, not wanting to squelch Henry’s hope. “She is on the fourth floor, room 455, if you have trouble getting in, have the nurse call me.”

  And then it hit Father like a thunderbolt. Camilla! Camilla, Jeremy’s wife, Henry’s daughter-in-law! Our Camilla is also Jenny Hamilton’s daughter! That is what his mind struggled to connect together when he saw Camilla the other day! Camilla too is in search of her real mother!

  “Ach, mein lieber Gott,”

  “What did you say, Father?”

  Jenny so desired to be re-united with Henry and Camilla. That was her wish! Oh Lord, grant Jenny her heart’s desire to see the loves of her heart.

  “Father, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I was just thinking on something else but I believe the Lord has it all under control. I will leave it in His Hands.”

  “But what is it, Father? Don’t leave me hanging!”

  The Lord had already summoned Henry, her daughter is sure to be close behind. Yes, yes, trust in the Lord and let life take its course. He was just too tired and weary to deal with another matter.

  “Father, Father, are you still there?”

  “Yes, Henry, just go, your sweetheart waits for you.”

  “But what is it that you want to tell me…?”

  “Henry, you will know soon enough.”

  “Okay, then. I’m just entering the city limits only fifteen minutes away from the care home. Thank you, Father. Please pray for us, pray for God’s mercy and understanding, pray for a miracle. Good-bye, Father. I will call you later, today. I should know the answer to everything then.”

  “Yes, good-bye, Henry.”

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Father hung up the phone and stood in the silence of his room still in awe at the amazing developments. He was certain that Jeremy’s wife, Camilla, was Jenny’s daughter as bizarre as that might be.

  ‘My ways are not Your ways’ is certainly true, oh Lord.

  Henry and Camilla were right under his nose and he didn’t connect either to Jenny’s prayer to see them before she died. As he looked back he could see how the Lord and his messengers tried to make both Henry, him and even Camilla aware, but none of them saw it.

  What possibly have you in store for us, Lord?

  Our sweet Jenny is at your door, perhaps already cradled in Your arms.

  Two scriptures popped into Father’s mind. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your understanding.” It was the same thought the Lord had given him earlier, but it was the second passage – John 10:10 – that puzzled Father, “Christ has come in order that ye may have life and that ye may have it abundantly.”

  Father pictured Jenny lying in her bed as he gave her feeble body the last rites. What life? Father dared to think for but a moment before it was immediately erased by the thought…all things are possible through Christ.

  Father hung his head and let out a long weary sigh. “Not my will, but Thy will be done,” he whispered. “Please help me to bear it all.”

  For several days, Father David Engelmann had noticed a bright light around him. At first he thought it was his eyesight, but soon realized that his vision was fine, in fact it seemed to be improved. The light gave him a sense of peace and warmed and comforted him. If it were not for this godsend, the drain and exhaustion of the past few weeks would have consumed him. He recalled how a few days before Anna’s passing, she too talked to him about the bright light she saw.

  Father sat back on the edge of his bed. He rested his elbows on his knees and slowly lowered his head into his cupped hands before him. “Lord…perhaps, my hour has come, as well. I showed your glory on earth as best I could. I finished the work you gave me to do. There are many who can carry on your purpose.”

  David could feel the lassitude in his spirit dragging him down. He never allowed himself to sink or stay in that state. The scriptures he quoted earlier were usually sufficient to sustain and lift his spirit, but he realized he needed more. He reached for the Bible on the end table and let it fall open on his knees. At once his eyes fell on the words of John 15:12 and 13 that confirmed what was already heavy in his heart when he gave the last rites to Jenny:

  “This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his f
riends.”

  David’s eyes brightened, he suddenly realized his petition for the Lord to take him out of weariness was not his true motive.

  “Yes, yes, Lord, that is my supplication. You have granted me a long life; my cup has overflowed with joy in serving you and carrying out Your will. It is time to give this joy of life to my dearly beloved. Yes, this is how we can give Jenny the abundant life You intended.”

  Rejoicing filled his heart as he seized the opportunity to exemplify that same kind of sacrificial giving toward another that his Master had shown on the cross.

  Raising his head and hands towards heaven he uttered a heartrending cry, “I now come to you, Father, through Your son Jesus, my Lord and Saviour, to grant my heart’s prayer. Take my life and restore Jenny’s. Give her and my son, Henry, the happiness of marriage. Oh, Father! Allow me to give you glory in your presence now to fulfill your command, give me the honour to lay down my life for my friends as Your son did for us.”

  For the first time in days, David’s spirit enhanced and a gentle peace overtook him. The Lord had brought him to his ultimate purpose. He looked across the room at his tan wedding suit hanging in the open closet, illuminated by a ray of sun, which found its way into the room between a slight opening in the window curtains. As the warmth of the light came towards him the peace growing within him elevated.

  “Yes, perhaps my time is at hand, perhaps the Lord shall give me the privilege to love completely.”

  Father rose and walked slowly over to the closet and took his tan suit off the rack. “Yes, today is a good day to wear my suit. It feels like the right thing to do.” After laying the suit on his bed, he returned to the closet and got his white shirt and tie and laid them on top. He slipped off his black trousers, his vest, and finally his white collar that identified him as a priest. How he loved that collar, so proud to wear it, to let all the world know that he was the Lord’s shepherd, charged with looking after His flock.

  He put on his tan suit – his wedding suit, the suit he’d worn when he and Anna married and the suit he had said he wanted to wear at his funeral. Like Anna, at her funeral, had worn her wedding gown to symbolize her new marriage with the Lord, Father wanted to wear his wedding suit for the same purpose. The buttons on his shirt were not as easy to do up as his vest. He fumbled with them then tucked the shirt tails into his trousers.