Message of peace in angels
THERE are 55 angels in our house. Channelling my Christmas geek, I counted them again. Some are tiny images, two large carvings 14 in high, the rest filling all the gaps, one dimensional and two, old and new, some brass, some painted: a heavenly host.
In all cultures, angels are the messengers between earth and heaven. I can open my Koran and read of the same archangels who brought the good news to the shepherds, and I own a handsome carving of the Buddha, with jolly little angels flying around his head.
New Age shops sell angel cards and more people believe in angels than believe in God but don’t ask me to disentangle that puzzle. I just like angels — and hope my collection will grow.
A collection that’s shrunk is the list of names in my address book. Turning the pages for our Christmas cards (this is the first time in ten years our little angel-dog Bonnie wasn’t on our special cards, which made me sad) I saw how many names are crossed out.
Some have become separated from me by life changes (you simply cannot keep in touch with all those known over a long career, while divorce can also weed out some) but more by death.
Each time I saw the name of a friend who had passed away in the past 12 months, the fleeting glimpse of happy times long gone made me grapple with melancholy. But, as my son Dan pointed out, all there is to do is celebrate the good times we had and be glad we knew them all.
So then I thought, even if the names in the book diminish, the angels at home still increase. That’s something to be grateful for: a balance, a cosmic fairness.
My angels tell me that most things even out, in the end, which is why I cling to optimism. There was even serendipity in the joke that fell from my Christmas cracker at an office ‘do’:
‘Why did Santa’s helper need an agony aunt?’
‘Because he lacked elf esteem.’
Angelic readers, I wish you all a very peaceful Christmas!
Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Scottish Daily Mail, 20 Waterloo Street, Glasgow G2 6DB, or e-mail bel. mooney@dailymail.co.uk. A pseudonym will be used if you wish. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.