Angels We Have Heard On High

Don't worry, I'm not going to talk about drunken angels. :)

If you believe in the cheesy tele-movies around this time of year, you'd know that awesome miracles seem to take place during Christmastime. Jolly octogenarians in fat suits flit around on reindeer throwing down gifts, dreaming Scrooges turn into philanthropists overnight and yes, little angels actually come down to earth for a party on that special night.

For anyone else that would constitute a miracle. For my niece however, it seems more like a fearful nightmare.

Unfortunately for my niece Chatty Carmen, this year the angels seem to have made her the chosen one for a brief Christmas chat. Guess Mother Mary's busy preparing for the coming festivities. Not sure exactly what they tell her in secrecy but it seems her angels are pretty much silent about lottery tickets and hidden treasure troves.

Paul : What do you have to tell me?
Carmen : I see angels.
Paul : Not dead people?
Carmen : No, I see angels. Why do they come?
Paul : To watch over you? It's their job.
Carmen : Oh.
Paul : They talk to you? and you understand?
Carmen : Of course! They speak in English!
Paul : Not in heavenly tongues? What do they look like?

Disappointingly it seems as if the angels don't resemble sculpted blond god Chris Evans in the least! Damn. Fittingly in her eyes, they only look like plump lil cherubs who giggle endlessly while they string their harps.


Wow. Sir, are you a real angel?
Of course then it was time to allay her fears with talk of angels as wonderfully sweet kind guardians who watch over all of mankind. Not sure if she believed my ecclesiastical sales pitch but it did make her look a little more kindly on the heavenly hosts. Maybe the next time Raphael and Gabriel drop by for a visit, Carmen wouldn't be so freaked out.

Hope that constitutes my one good act this year :)

Of course her angelic chats seem more like a by-product of an overactive imagination - triggered by the wistful angel bust I keep on the window sill! Possibly hereditary since I had some wild wacky nights when I was a kid myself. Fairies, demons and monsters leapt all over my bedroom as I tossed and turned restlessly - while my sonorous brother snored the night through. Don't remember talking to angels though.

Probably gave me a pass since I wasn't exactly a paragon of sainthood even back then.


Not being able to talk to them certainly doesn't stop us from enjoying the voice of angels heard on high :)