Notes of the Guardian Angel

I am just an ordinary creature. Pale, white clothes, wings, some emotions, some sarcasm, incredibly interested in my job. Yes, well, I am a guardian angel. I can’t be photographed, so no images here.

I was introduced to my baby a long time ago… She was so tiny inside her mommy. She was such a sweetheart. Don’t know where the rest of it came from. We became such a good friends. She was always listening to me, sometimes even responding. She is very intuitive, so listens and feels very well. Sure, she didn’t know she was talking to me, but she was actually talking. We had conversations, played and laughed.

She was a different child. Never liked to play with girls. Always ran and fought with boys, loved to chase them and even responded when someone would try to hurt her. I loved her for her fighting spirit and for her kind heart.

She always protected the innocent and tried to do the justice. I did my best to help her and make sure she is secure. She had a tough childhood, but, well, that was good for her. She grew up a strong woman… As she always referred to herself – the survivor. It’s true. Sometimes I was wondering. I know many of my colleagues who keep caring their babies along their lives and those are complaining a lot that their angel was not there when they needed him or something like that.

You know what, people, we are always there! The funniest thing is that they complain exactly after my friends hold them tight and carry them from one safe place to another. Their babies become so spoiled that they don’t even want to walk by themselves anymore.

My baby? Neee, she was an exceptional one. She never even allowed me to carry her. Though after some rough times she’d allow me to hug her and softly touch her forehead to help her fall asleep. She would sleep so softly, so calm… to wake up full of energy and power to solve the problem, to kill it and move on even stronger.

I was wondering why she would do that. How is it possible that she was so different?! Tough childhood? Professional sports? Rough parents or their divorce during her growing up? I still didn’t figure it out, just know for sure that my job is pretty easy here. Only sometimes I need to direct her to the right way as she tends to slip every time she faces the problem to solve or too much work or too many people.

She has many stories to tell but doesn’t want to. I already talked to her several times in her dreams… She is too shy to share even though you would never call her shy. Well, I am allowed to tell you my story, also with her permission (from her sleeping mood, but I hope it works as well).

To be continued…
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