The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  Even thought we are far apart, you are forever in my heart. I will love you always. Have a merry Christmas!

  All my love,

  Jenny.

  The letter slipped from Henry’s hands and fell to the table over top the angel. Tears spilled out his eyes; he could barely read the last paragraph. He pushed aside the letter exposing the pewter angel and picked it up, searching for the traces of Jenny’s lipstick on the wing of the angel. The soft pink lip marks were still there.

  Slowly, lovingly, he brought the angel towards him as if he were about to embrace Jenny herself. His lips tenderly touched her lips and his eyes closed forcing out the warm tears to gently roll down his cheeks mingling with the kiss. A warmth that he had not felt for a long time swept through him.

  At that moment, all time stood still.

  As Jenny was being wheeled out of the recovery room back to her room, she suddenly felt a soothing warmth emanate from the pewter angel. She could feel it against her chest next to her heart. She turned over and clutched the angel with both of her hands. She brought it up to her lips and tenderly kissed it. A warmth swept through, Jenny, and all memory and thoughts of her sickness vanished.

  At that moment, all time stood still.

  Reluctantly, Henry released the angel from his lips and studied it again. At first when he saw the angel, he thought it was the one he had sent to Jenny, but according to her letter it was an ornament her friend brought as a decoration for the tree at school.

  But, but…how could this possibly be? How could Jenny have sent him exactly the same angel with exactly the same inscription…and send it to him at… He reached for the letter and read the date on the top: December 18, 1956. Henry looked up at the kitchen window above the sink allowing the light to help him recall and illuminate his mind.

  “I think I mailed my letter to Jenny with the very same angel just two days before that date and that very same Christmas!”

  The probability of such a coincidence to occur was astronomical!

  An unearthly, yet warm sensation travelled down his spine. There were so many amazing happenings surrounding the purchase of the angel; the nickel he’d dropped into the Salvation Army pot, the Santa Claus alerting him to the angel crowning the Christmas tree in the Eaton’s window, then Santa disappearing, the manager getting it for him and now…this!

  Henry’s feelings of warm love were enhanced with a growing surge of wonder, of mystery. Could there possibly be something supernatural going on here? He felt it back then and all through the years as well.

  Am I really seeing Julean’s spirit? Is she leading me back to Jenny along with my guardian angel?

  It reminded Henry of the time Jenny almost had that terrible accident when crossing Victoria Avenue in front of Mr. Engelmann’s store. How a car had been hurtling towards her and should have struck and killed her. Henry recalled the scene so vividly in his mind along with the fear he felt at the time gripping him. It was so real, he pushed the chair back and stood up, ready to run and save his Jenny.

  Henry caught himself; shook his head and sat back down.

  “She was saved by her guardian angel,” Mr. Engelmann had said. It was the only explanation.

  And now all this happening, what does it all mean?

  He raised his head towards the window, again, and his brow took on a questioning deep wrinkle. There was another aspect of this that didn’t make any sense either.

  His mom knew how much he loved Jenny and how he yearned to receive a letter from her. Why would she have withheld this from him?

  This is probably what she wanted to tell him. A week before she died she said twice that she had something to give him and tell him.

  And on Monday, two days before their luncheon date, she reminded him again that when he comes home for his borscht soup to book off at least two hours…both times she was so serious that he could hardly wait to find out what his mother wanted to tell him.

  Henry looked up and muttered into the stillness, “What was it Mom that you wanted to tell me?”

  Henry knew his mother would never purposely hurt him or withhold anything.

  “What on earth is going on here?”

  Henry knew his entire life might have been so different. He could have been married to Jenny, have had different children, perhaps even lived in a different city.

  Henry found himself in the midst of thoughts of what might have been. There was a fullness to his life and yet an emptiness. He knew what he had and where he had been over the past 24 years and now he tried to think how it might have been different.

  No, he didn’t want to go there now.

  It would be a foolish idea and blemish the wonderful life he had with Julean. He had four great children and would not trade them for all the world. And, although Henry knew in his heart that his life and marriage had been happy and good, there was still that special spot in the recesses of his heart; that tiny light that never really went out over all these years. Julean knew about it even before we wed and unbelievably had been willing to share their marriage with Jenny.

  How ironic was it that his mother had placed Julean’s card and Jenny’s letter in the same chest. They were sharing their same fate, together. Both had been a part of Henry’s life and both had been removed from it.

  Henry was overwhelmed by the discovery and how very real his love still was for Jenny despite his deep love for Julean. Perhaps, his feeling lonely since Julean’s passing only enhanced those tender feelings of love he once had and why they lit up so readily.

  And yet, it is Julean herself who seems to be leading him. She said she would, not only in the letter she had written to him, but also the last time they spoke in the hospital. Even in death his dear, sweet Julean is offering her love to him. Even in death Henry’s love was increasing for Julean and the realization of what an incredible gem she was.

  For the longest time he thought that Julean was leading him to Ivania. But it seemed to be going nowhere lately. Ivania definitely wanted a closer relationship, but how could he in all honesty, be true to her and to himself?

  This is all so incredible! And yet, where can it possibly lead? Jenny could be married and a millions miles away. What is the sense of all this?

  Henry checked his watch. This has been some day. He felt exhausted more from emotional overload than cleaning out the house. Perhaps he would stop for the day and head home. He wanted to read Jenny’s letter over again and again.

  He stood and stared at the pewter angel in his hands. The traces of pink lipstick on the wings had transferred to his lips. He ran his tongue over his lips and tried to taste Jenny’s, but couldn’t detect anything…only a memory tinged with a sweet lilac scent.

  “Oh, Jenny,” Henry said, as he brought the angel to his lips once again and tenderly kissed it. He picked up the letter, folded it and slid it back into the envelope. Before slipping it into his breast jacket pocket, he studied the address on the envelope and the special delivery stamp, again, and still wondered how it had come to land in his mother’s treasure chest.

  At the kitchen door he turned and looked back into the kitchen. He stared at the floor where his mother had lain. He imagined the attendants lifting her and the astonished look they must have had as his mother’s apron unravelled from her waist before sealing her in the bag.

  He shook his head and muttered, Amazing! As he turned out the light he whispered, “Thank you, Julean.”

  Henry opened the screen door and walked out onto the landing. He inhaled the fall prairie air to clear his head. The cool autumn breeze and warmth of the sun soothed his troubled spirit.

  “Just too many unanswered questions,”

  As Henry made his way to the SUV the neighbour next door shouted to him.

  “Hi, Henry.”

  “Hi Rose, how are doing?”

  “I’m fine. Just wanted to let you know how sorr
y I am over your mom’s passing. She was such an angel. I miss her deeply.”

  “Thanks, Rose, I miss her very much too.”

  “The last time I spoke to her was the day of our anniversary. My husband sent me a dozen red roses and there was an extra white rose in the bouquet. I felt compelled to give it to your mother at the time.”

  “Really?”

  “She was so happy to receive it. It made her cry. She said that it was an answer to a prayer she had made to a saint called ‘The Little Flower.’”

  “Yeah, St Therese.”

  “Well anyway, she said she had made a decision 24 years ago that she always regretted and just that day she had vowed to make everything right. She considered the white rose as a sign her prayer had been heard.”

  “Oh my gosh, Rose, that’s amazing. It sort of answers at least part of the questions that were in my mind. Now I am certain that the letter I found was what she had in mind to give me. When did you say you gave Mom the rose?”

  “It was August 26, the day of our wedding anniversary. Like I said, the flowers were all so lovely. I wish flowers would last longer. Mine drooped, wilted and died about a week after.”

  “You’re not going to believe this, Rose, the white rose you gave Mom is in a vase in her bedroom. The water dried up weeks ago, yet the flower looks as fresh as the day you gave it to her!”

  As soon as Henry buckled up, he turned the key and the Escalade roared to life. He shifted into drive and let the vehicle roll ahead for a moment before he slammed on the brakes, launching himself towards the steering wheel. He set the vehicle in park, again.

  Something struck him about what Rose had just said. His Mom regretted a decision she made 24 years ago. It made him re-think the date he had seen beside the stamp on the envelope as he stood in the kitchen just prior to seeing Rose. “I’m certain the delivery date of the letter was different than the date of Jenny’s letter.”

  Henry pulled out the envelope and flipped it over to the front. The mid-afternoon sun shone through the open sun roof illuminating the envelope in his hand. It wasn’t very clear …

  “I’m sure it’s August. Yes, August 26…I think. It could be 28…” But the year was clear. “1962.” The moment the numbers tumbled from his lips it hit him like a locomotive going full speed.

  “That was just days before Julean and I got married!”

  Henry was so flabbergasted he didn’t trust his own memory. He quickly took off his gold wedding band that Julean had given him the day of their wedding and read the date inscribed on the inside.

  “Yes, September 9, 1962. Oh, Mom. That’s why you kept it from me. It was too late. I was on the doorstep to be wed to another!”

  How difficult a decision that must have been for you to make Mom and to keep it a secret for all these years. That’s what you shared with Rose and been praying for…that was the decision you regretted for 24 years…Oh, Mom…of course, I forgive you!

  Everything made sense now, except for one last thing – who sent the letter? It wouldn’t have been Jenny, as she would have re-dated it and explained why it was several years late. No, it must have been someone else. Someone who came across it and decided to send it by special delivery just to make certain that he got it. Perhaps, that was one part of the puzzle he would never figure out.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The drive from his mother’s place to the acreage took thirty minutes. Since Julean’s passing the children were slowly moving out. Jeremy was the first to go when he married Camilla. Allison was next heading to Alberta to attend Bible College, and in another two years Lauren would be going to Montreal to continue her dance studies. The house was too big for just him and Justin, but Henry loved his studio and the beautiful view from its window. The uninhabited hills and valley along with the meandering creek below was truly inspirational and never failed to get his creative juices flowing.

  After he fed the two dogs and four barn cats it was almost nine o’clock. He had eaten some snacks earlier in the afternoon when he got home and nothing since. In any case, hunger had left him and he needed rest more than food. He thought about phoning Ivania, but it was too late now, so he vowed to do it first thing tomorrow. She might even drop into the café. I’ll let Jeremy know to alert me in the gallery if she does. He wondered where their relationship was heading. After discovering Jenny’s letter today, it was obvious where his heart still lay.

  Henry went into the living room and turned on the record player. The songs he shared with his two loves always gave him solace. The first record dropped and began to play… “While I give to you and you give to me, true love, true…”

  He made his way out to the sun-room; his favourite room. The gas fireplace was on and its warmth welcomed him. As he walked over to the window and looked out over the valley below he hummed along to the song. The light of the moon dimly illuminated his Poustinia beside the glistening, meandering stream. He’d worked so hard to get it finished and yet he never used it. It was a good thing Father Engelmann enjoyed and regularly made good use of it.

  Henry knew the Lord was calling him to it and what He would ask of him. His stomach tightened at the very thought of it. He knew his days were coming to a close, yet he wasn’t ready to give everything up or away. He admired Eddy for doing what he did. Henry still recalled when they spoke earlier that spring what his friend’s response was to why he retired before his 40th birthday…

  “I’m thankful for every day and enjoy life to the full ol’ buddy. Take it from me, sell the business, come to Jamaica and learn to smell the roses. You work way too hard, Hank. Time goes fast. From morning to night, I enjoy my life. And I’m surprised on how little I really need. Most people work and work and never use up what they have amassed and before they know it they are old and gone and never really appreciated what they had strived for, for all those years and years. The good life is right under their noses and they can’t see it…or choose not to see it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right Eddy, it’s all about choice. Life is a series of choices. How many right one’s you make determines your peace, quality of life, happiness and in the end which one of God’s heavenly mansions you occupy.”

  Tears were on the edge of his eyelids as he listened to the songs. Julean’s song, Love Me Tender was now playing. He reached in his pocket and took out her rosary and brought it to his lips. The ache for Julean was almost too much to bear.

  He turned off the record player and flicked off the lights on his way back to the foyer. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom next to the studio. Pajamas on and teeth brushed, he sunk into the warmth of his water-bed. The wavelike motion of the bed lifted and then lulled him as the water settled.

  He was tired and emotionally spent after the effects of today’s shock and discovery. His inner world had experienced an earthquake filled with such a kaleidoscope of emotions. Emotions that he had buried and forgotten suddenly vibrated loose with the discovery of Jenny’s letter, sending shock waves throughout his mind.

  His mom had to have known that it would happen some day. She had probably felt the tremors for many years. He would never know if the letter he found was what she had planned to share with him a few weeks ago, but Henry felt certain that it was. It was amazing how Rose came by at just the right moment to share his Mom’s regret over her decision. And the white rose, all part of God’s divine providence…unbelievable.

  The hidden waves in the water-bed responded instantly as Henry rolled onto his side. The warm rippling motion gently soothed away the tension and excitement of the day. He pulled what was once Julean’s pillow towards his chest and tossed his arm over it so it rested on the pillow. His hand hung over the edge holding Julean’s rosary. He softly whispered a soft thank you to his dear wife for helping him discover the letter. In death as she did in life she always supported him in all he did, even in his relationship with his first love.

  He wanted
to pray, but thoughts of the letter and its contents occupied his mind. He had read and re-read the letter eight times since he arrived home and almost had it memorized word for word. It was so wonderful to know that Jenny had loved him and missed him as much as he did her. And the incredible coincidence of the pewter angels still overwhelmed him. He felt certain that it could only have been their guardian angels that made such an amazing thing happen.

  As he began to relax deeper into his ocean of calm ripples and emotions and memories, his thoughts drifted back across time reliving those wonderful months he had shared with Jenny. With Jenny, his summer had miraculously changed from boredom to ecstasy. As thoughts of her beauty, spontaneity, charm and blue, sparkling eyes crossed the screen of his mind he drifted yet deeper into that incredible summer.

  As he crossed sleep’s doorstop the words, “Quickly hold my hand,” flashed into his mind. It echoed so real in the room he almost sat up. That incredible sensation he had felt then, as they’d held hands for the first time swept through him now. Henry hadn’t thought of those magical words for years, and suddenly they erupted so strongly and vividly as if they were yesterday. Suddenly he realized he had dropped the rosary and found his hand in mid air. He brought his arm down and rested it on the pillow at the same time picking up the crystal beads.

  His sudden movements caused the water to stir and rocked him again, calming him, soothing him. The thought of angels involved in their lives further assuaged him and before he drifted off a prayer he hadn’t said in many days entered his mind:

  Guardian angel my guardian dear,

  To whom God’s love commits me here;

  Ever this day be at my side,

  To light and guard, to rule and guide.

  Amen.

  “Are you crying, Camilla?”

  Jeremy raised himself up and rested on his elbow, his other hand touching her shoulder. He could feel her sobs. “What’s wrong, honey?”