- A few years ago angels were hot.
-
- We had TV shows devoted to angels. Films about angels.
Books. Greeting cards. Everywhere you looked, you encountered fact and
fiction about people who'd been contacted by angels and how it changed
their lives.
-
- Lately, though, the angelic hullabaloo has died down.
The Web sites are still there, and I hear a couple of networks are talking
about bringing out new "Stairway to Heaven"-style shows. But
it's not as pervasive as it was before. Angel sightings have dropped way
down, with their space being filled by Bigfoot sightings and UFO abductions.
-
- Yesterday, however, something happened that brought angels
into my mind all over again.
-
- No, it wasn't the e-mail I got from Wanda the Arkansas
Angel, chatting about what was new down her way. (Good news. Bad news.
Births. Deaths. Things getting better. Things getting worse. Business as
usual, you might say.)
-
- It was lunch.
-
- At the Mexican restaurant across the street from the
courthouse.
-
- Gwen and I were having an unusual lunch there. Unusual
not because of anything they were serving - or we were or weren't eating
- but because Lyndie the Waitress wasn't there. She'd had the nerve to
take the day off, and I admit it. I was thrown off-balance as a result.
-
- "The place doesn't feel the same," I said.
"The atmosphere's different. No one said, 'Hi, Larry! Hi, Miz Gwen!'
when we came in. No one said, 'Iced tea for Gwen and hot coffee for Larry,
right?'"
-
- Gwen sipped from her glass of iced tea. Pointed to my
cup of hot coffee. "Somebody did say, 'What would you like to drink?'"
she pointed out. "And we're drinking it, aren't we?"
-
- "Sure. But no one's saying, 'How're you feeling
today, Mizz Gwen? Don't forget your cell phone on the table again, Larry.'
It doesn't feel right."
-
- Gwen smiled that smile wives and lovers smile when they
think we're a little nuts but also a little cute for being that way, and
I decided to enjoy my lunch without thinking of Lyndie again.
-
- But then another customer came in. A man in a Razorbacks
baseball cap. The Waitress Who Wasn't Lyndie came over to give him a menu,
and I saw the smile on his face fade. "Where's Lyndie?" he said.
-
- "She's not working today."
-
- "She always works Mondays."
-
- The Waitress Who Wasn't Lyndie shrugged. The man let
out a sigh. Spoke to no one. Everyone. Himself. "It's not the same
when Lyndie isn't here. She makes me feel like someone cares about me.
No matter how rough my day's been, after I walk out of here I feel strong
again."
-
- Gwen's face took on a "Eureka!" look. She leaned
forward to me. "I get it now. You guys are right. Lyndie always feels
so eager it makes everybody else - even me - want to plunge right into
things, too."
-
- I've been thinking about people like Lyndie since Gwen
said that. People we see all the time, but don't know all that well, or
even complete strangers who just happen to be in the right place at the
right time to ease what ails us regardless of what's going on - right or
wrong - in their own lives.
-
- I remember the guy who came up to me one day as I was
gazing out at the ocean sadly wondering what the point of my existence
was. "You've got to go with it," he said out of nowhere. "All
of us do."
-
- And because of him, I did.
-
- And the time I was that guy for an elderly woman sitting
on a bench in the Paradise Town Square, looking like she was about to cry.
"I'll bet your grandchildren love you," I said for no reason
I knew of as I walked by. A week later she stopped me in the market. "I
want to thank you for your kind words," she said. "I was doing
poorly, and you made me feel alive."
-
- Gwen's had times like that in her life also. So have
all the friends I've talked to about it. People rising out of their suffering
because of someone else. Or helping other people do the same without even
knowing that's what's going down.
-
- So here, for whatever it's worth, is what I think about
angels:
-
- I think we're all angels - each and every one of us shuffling
across this planet - just for helping another human being or two get through
the day.
-
-
- Copyright C 2007 by Larry Brody. All rights reserved.
-
-
- Author Larry Brody's weekly column, LIVE! FROM PARADISE!
appears on his website, www.larrybrody.com. He has written thousands of
hours of network television, and is the author of "Television Writing
from the Inside Out" and "Turning Points in Television."
Brody is Creative Director of The Cloud Creek Institute for the Arts, the
world's first in-residence media colony. More about his activities can
be seen on www.tvwriter.com and www.cloudcreek.org. He welcomes your comments
and feedback at <mailto:LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org>LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org.
Brody, his wife and their dogs, cats, horses and chickens live in Marion
County, Arkansas. The other residents of the mythical town of Paradise
reside in his imagination.
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