BROWNIE: An Angel's Visit

by Linda Stanley Dalton

  With that Miranda turned and walked away toward the gates that stood before the most brilliant light Morgan had ever seen. She was curious, but knew instinctively that whatever it was, whatever it meant, this was not her time to know.

  “Goodbye, Miranda!” She recalled Miranda’s words: In your heart you know his name. “Goodbye, Stephen! I love you!”

  “That’s a splendid name,” Brownie commented and Morgan noticed for the first time since their arrival that he had grown in height since they left her hospital room.

  “Will I really get to see him one day, Brownie?” Morgan asked as the teddy bear/angel took her hand in his to guide her back to her world.

  “That depends solely on you. There are people who can show you the way, but only if in your heart you truly want to know.”

  ***

  It was quiet back in Morgan’s room at Valley Hospital. Brownie had stayed with her for a little while after their return and encouraged her to get some rest, but she wasn’t sleepy. She was at peace, perhaps for the first time ever. Not since Miranda died had Morgan felt worthy of living. She had an enormously successful career as a supermodel, her courtship with Marcus was like something out of a fairy tale, and she had married one of the world’s most eligible, handsome and charming men. They had built a successful business together, had brought a beautiful child into the world. Though for awhile the future had seemed dismal for Angela, she was healed and her entire life lay ahead of her. It was as if all the pieces to the puzzle had found themselves assembled on a coffee table in front of the fireplace of a cozy home somewhere, like a picture in a magazine.

  Tears welled in Morgan’s eyes when she thought about her son, Stephen. It was strange; she hadn’t even realized she was pregnant. It had an unreal quality like a hazy dream one struggles to recall the details of. Seeing Stephen in Miranda’s arms, knowing that her sister was happy and had not blamed her in any way for her death, brought feelings Morgan wasn’t sure how to deal with. A great weight had been lifted, yet she sensed that there would be tough decisions ahead if she wanted to see her son and Miranda again.

  A sudden rapping sound against the metal frame of the door to her room invaded her thoughts and startled her. She was surprised when she saw looked up and Doctor Bernstein.

  “Hello, Mrs. Cole. I was meeting with a colleague when I ran into Doctor Phillips. I thought I would stop by and see how you’re feeling.”

  Morgan was surprised to see him and wondered why he would care about her after her recent behavior. “You can come in,” she said. They had clashed on more than one occasion and he was the last person she expected to be concerned about her.

  “I’m surprised you’re not asleep,” Bernie observed as he made his way toward the blue vinyl recliner near her bed. “I’m sure you’ve had quite a day. Is there anything I can get you?”

  Morgan shook her head. “No, thank you.” She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Bernie had a kind face and she wondered if he had a family, what his life was like outside the hospital. Did he have any children or grandchildren?

  Bernie noted the weary look the unmade-up Morgan wore; the pale complexion and the darkness beneath her eyes. He hoped Angela’s complete recovery would make a positive change in her life. He surmised that it must expend a great deal of energy to be so disagreeable to everyone.

  “I’m certain Angela will be very happy to have her mommy back tomorrow,” Bernie said softly. It was quiet in the hospital at this time of night, forcing folks to speak in hushed tones simply because it was so calm and still. “She’s a brave little girl, and she loves you and your husband very much.”

  Morgan sighed. “I feel as if I’ll need to get to know her all over again. She’s spent so much time in that hospital room. I have a lot of making up to do.”

  Bernie cocked his head to one side, curious about her remark. “In what way, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I see now that Kenni wasn’t a threat to me, or my relationship with Angela.” She chuckled slightly and gave her head a shake. “I see things very clearly right now, amazingly so. Is that why hindsight is twenty-twenty?”

  “That’s not unusual,” Bernie offered. “I’ve recently had a bit of an eye-opening experience myself.”

  “Do you have any children?”

  “A son, but we haven’t spoken for quite some time now,” Bernie admitted, ashamed of failing as a father. Seth had always been able to communicate with Isabel, who seemed to have an ability Bernie didn’t when it came to understanding him.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Morgan said, genuinely. “It must be hard to be alone. Actually, you can be alone in the midst of many people.”

  This time Bernie chuckled. “I know a bit about that too.”

  Morgan bit at her lower lip as she pondered something. Then she looked up at Bernie. “If you were given a second chance to fix some things in your life, what would you do?”

  “Strange that you should mention that,” Bernie said. “I’m at a point in my own life where I’m trying to be open about something very important. Unfortunately, old habits die hard, but I suppose an old dog like me can learn new tricks if he really wants to.”

  Morgan began to yawn, suddenly very tired, her eyes heavy. “Do you believe in angels?”

  Bernie wondered if Brownie had paid a visit to Angela’s troubled mother. He wondered, too, what unresolved mysteries did Morgan Cole harbor? Had she also taken a trip to Heaven?

  “Yes, I do,” Bernie said firmly. “I’ll admit that there was a time not so long ago when I would have laughed at that question, would have considered it preposterous—but there are things that simply are, regardless of what we think about them.”

  Morgan yawned again, her eyes waging a losing battle to remain open. “I’m sorry,” she said, yawning yet again. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”

  “No apology necessary,” Bernie said with a knowing smile as he got to his feet. “Sleep well, Morgan.” With a smile on his face he thought, if you’ve been where I think you’ve been, some seeds have been planted. Water them generously with what is within your heart.

  Chapter 13

  Charlie had spent the past hour on his knees at the altar as he participated in the Westside Family Church prayer vigil for Michael Donahue. He got to his feet and shook out his legs, noticing that his back was strangely and uncharacteristically pain free.

  To accommodate the various schedules of the congregation, Westside would be open from noon until ten o’clock in order to be accessible to all who desired to come and pray at the altar for Michael. Area pastors met weekly for breakfast and to pray for the community. They had passed the info about the vigil along to their congregants and as a result, there were a number of unfamiliar faces from other denominations joining them at the altar. Charlie was astonished by the steady stream of people coming and going, and Pastor Henderson told him it had been that way all day.

  A man from a Baptist church in nearby Troy had told Charlie that they were holding a vigil there as well. He had also heard the same accounts from a Tipp City woman, two men from Kettering, three teens from Piqua and another from Springfield.

  Charlie caught the chief pastor’s attention as he entered the sanctuary. Pastor Henderson was a tall, slender man with a mop of unruly dark hair, and reminded him of Abraham Lincoln. He was also the father of baby Noah, the infant who had received a miraculous healing. Charlie was anxious for an update on Michael’s condition, and he was worried about Lauren, who was all alone during this crisis.

  “I spoke with Lauren earlier. Charlie, I’m afraid that things aren’t looking good for young Michael at the moment,” Pastor Henderson reported, his soft voice filled with concern. “Doctor Hastings is monitoring Michael closely, and I’m sure that he’s prayerfully considering his next step. I certainly don’t envy his position, but I believe that Jeb Hastings is anointed by God to treat our children and we are blessed to have him not only here at Westside, but in our community as well. Any
way, my wife and some other ladies are at the hospital to pray and support Lauren. I’ve also alerted the prayer chain to pray for Jeb as well, he has a lot on his shoulders.”

  “I’ve thought about going to the hospital, but I don’t want to intrude,” Charlie admitted, “especially with all those ladies around.” A wave of guilt washed over him and the ruddy tone of his complexion heightened. He wanted to see Lauren every bit as much as he wanted to pray for Michael. Despite what he considered to be bad timing with her child’s illness, Charlie found himself attracted to Lauren, her smile and her beautiful, violet eyes haunted his thoughts.

  “You should call her,” Pastor Henderson encouraged. “I’ve got something for you, if I can find them.” After a few seconds, he retrieved the stack of member directories and handed one to Charlie. “Here you are, hot off the presses with everyone’s current phone numbers and email addresses. We’re also on Facebook now, thanks to Brother Davis. I’m sure Lauren can use all the support and comfort she can get right now. Dealing with a critically ill child is agonizing.” He sighed knowingly, recalling the long, sleepless nights of endless prayer, of waiting desperately for a miracle. “I almost feel guilty that Noah has made such a miraculous recovery while Michael’s condition worsens.”

  Charlie nervously rolled the directory into a tube, curling it around his fingers. “We can’t give up hope!” Despite his denial, Charlie wondered if Brownie had played a part in Noah’s healing.

  “Even for myself as a pastor, sometimes stating that things are in God’s hands sounds inadequate, especially when we’ve all experienced what it’s like to have our prayers go seemingly unanswered, or discovered the answer was simply ‘no.’ We’re not supposed to, but we become discouraged. There are times when in my humanness I am at a complete loss, but Charlie, He hasn’t failed me yet, not in the long haul. There have been disappointments along the way, of course; no one ever said that this life would be perfect.”

  Charlie nodded. “It’s amazing, though, how the body of Christ can come together when it wants to,” he remarked as he looked around at those with unfamiliar faces who were still around the altar as they prayed singly and together. Others sat in the pews and spoke quietly. Some were silent in their praying style while others prayed aloud in groups with their hands raised toward Heaven. It was quite a sight to see different denominations all praying in one accord for Michael. Nobody seemed to care who was praying which way, as if for the moment, at least, they could put aside their religious differences for a common purpose.

  “Unfortunately, we don’t see this enough. When we do, it’s a truly awesome experience, exactly how Jesus intended it to be,” Pastor Henderson agreed. Then he looked up at the ceiling, toward Heaven to God’s throne, and offered a simple prayer, “Hear our prayers, Father. Dear Lord, please hear the prayers of your people.”

  ***

  Charlie was chilled to the bone as he turned the key in the lock of his front door. The short walk from the car to the door subjected him to a blast of frigid winter air and he shivered where he stood. It was windy and extremely cold with the temperature in the lower twenties, according to the digital thermometer at the First Bank of Brannan as he had driven by earlier. From talking with his customers, he knew some people were ready for Christmas snow, and many homes were decked out with colorful, twinkling lights and decorations that seemed to be inviting the winter weather to visit Brannan’s Point for the holiday. Charlie liked snow, but always tired of it long before winter was over. He hated how it looked when it turned black with road film and grime, or when there was so much snow that all he could do was pile it up like a frozen white hedge.

  Charlie took off his hat and coat, and stuffed his gloves into his coat pockets. There was a fire burning in the fireplace and teddy bear Brownie was sitting on the floor before it, his knees drawn up to his chest with his furry arms wrapped around them. Charlie hung up his garments before he moved toward the fireplace to warm himself in the blazing glow.

  “Hi, Brownie,” Charlie greeted as he rubbed his hands together. “Man, its cold out tonight! What’ve you been up to today?”

  “I find your world a very tiring place in which to dwell,” Brownie said as he gazed into the flames. “I don’t know how you manage to survive as long as you do, what with gravity pulling on your body and this world bombarding you constantly with all sorts of images and lies.”

  Charlie found it difficult to talk to Brownie while he towered above him, so he lowered himself onto the carpeted floor, resting his back against the couch. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and studied his friend in the firelight. “What’s wrong, Brownie? You sound like…I don’t know, like you’ve had a bad day.”

  Brownie smiled slightly at Charlie’s comment. “Angels don’t have bad days. I see now why He only sends us here in a visible form for brief periods of time; it takes a lot out of us. I will be ready when it’s time to return home and prepare for a new assignment. I wonder where my next journey will take me. It’s a big universe!”

  Brownie fascinated Charlie, he was curious about everything he said and did. “Do you go on lots of assignments?” he asked. “I still haven’t figured out exactly what it is you’re doing here right now, but there have been some unusual events leading me to wonder if you’ve had anything to do with them.”

  One thing Brownie understood about humans was their extreme curiosity, their love for solving mysteries, deciphering secrets and finding hidden meanings in the most unlikely, mundane things.

  “I appreciate that you haven’t directly asked me much concerning my presence here. You even accepted me as Kevin Browne without anything more than a curious look. Of course, our Heavenly Father already knew that or He wouldn’t have sent me to visit with you.”

  There was a faraway look in Charlie’s eyes and he glanced at the fire burning strong and bright in the fireplace. Funny, but even the flames seemed brighter somehow with Brownie around. “I’ve been awed by your presence,” Charlie said softly. “I didn’t need to meet an angel to believe in Heaven because I’ve always known it exists, I didn’t need to meet an angel to know that I have a Creator, or that He loves me, despite some of the painful journeys I’ve taken in this world.”

  He turned back to look at Brownie and knew that he would miss him. “It’s funny, in a way, but despite what’s going on with Michael Donahue, several churches have come together to pray for him. It was encouraging to see people from different denominations praying together tonight, like a scene from The Book of Acts. There weren’t any disagreements or arguments about whether you should pray silently or aloud, whether praying in tongues was evil or a gift. To see fellow believers joined together in common prayer was something I will never forget. We weren’t Pentecostal or Baptist, or Catholic or Lutheran or Apostolic, or whatever denomination you’d care to name! We were brothers and sisters in Christ, believers in the same God who created us.” Charlie was surprised when tears stung at his eyes. “I don’t know what will happen to Michael, but I’ll keep praying for him until this crisis resolves itself one way or another. I saw something tonight so extraordinary that I wonder if I’ll ever see it again on this earth, and somehow, I know it has changed me.”

  There was a long silence before Brownie spoke softly. “And you wondered why God would send me to you? Charlie, you have the kind of heart God loves in His creation. I’m His servant and live to do His will, but I must say it humbles me to hear what you’ve said tonight.”

  “Thank you,” Charlie said. He smiled. “I don’t know of too many men who can honestly say they’ve been complimented by an angel.”

  “You’re a good man, Charlie Petersen. God sees your heart. Rest assured, my friend, that in His time, He will bless you for all you’ve done in His name.”

  ***

  It was after midnight when a pajama-clad Charlie finished his prayers and climbed into bed. He reached for his nightly devotional book and opened it to the current date. His eyes scanned the print, but his th
oughts continued to wander as an image of Lauren’s face with her haunting violet eyes and contagious smile filled his mind. He recalled the other night at church when Pastor Dave had announced the news of little Noah’s healing. The congregation had immediately rejoiced at the news, and Charlie remembered looking at Lauren and had seen her genuine elation at the astounding news. He remembered wondering how Lauren had felt to know that one little boy had been healed while her own son’s condition worsened. From the look on Lauren’s face, the smile and the way she jumped up and down and praised God for His mercy on Noah, one would never have known that her own child lay in a hospital bed facing an uncertain future.

  “Oh, Lord,” Charlie sighed, leaning back against the headboard as emotions he had not felt in years stirred deep within his very being. He longed to protect Lauren, to keep her safe, and he realized that he also longed to be a part of her life, as little or as much as she might allow. He doubted she had any interest in him, besides his being in her church and someone to talk to casually.

  He recalled Pastor Henderson’s words earlier about things being in God’s hands, and while he didn’t know whether he had a right to, he heard himself ask God if Lauren and he might get to know each other better and grow closer, even if only in friendship. He suspected the timing was all wrong, and even told God he would understand if He said no, but this time he wanted the answer to be a resounding “yes.”

  ***

  Jeb Hastings stared out the window of his office, watching as the sun began to rise over the city and the cars on the roads grew in numbers. Ordinarily, it was his favorite time of day when the darkness receded and Brannan’s Point stirred to life, its residents preparing for the day ahead. He had been at the hospital all night. He supposed it had been adrenaline that kept him going, but fatigue was starting to set in. He felt the nagging dull ache in his shoulders, always in that same spot, that recurred whenever he was under a lot of pressure and had not slept.