Disagreements about angels and such are not new. In 1765 poet William Blake saw his first vision of angels while walking on Peckham Rye. "A tree filled with angels, bright angelic wings bespangling every bough like stars." He returned home to share his thrilling experience with his parents to be met by threats of belt lashings from his furious father, who thought he was lying. His mother interceded, saving William from a whipping.
My Great Aunt Corinne would tell stories of angels whenever she came to visit. The one I remember best was about the time her granddaughter Bonnie had wandered out into a busy street and was about to be hit by a speeding car when an angel came and whisked her out of the way. I was probably 7 or 8 when I heard this, but even then I had doubts about unseen spirits jumping into traffic to rescue children. It wasn’t until years later that I began to ask about the innocent children who weren’t saved. Did they not have a guardian angel? And if not, why not? Still I am not so cynical that I don’t believe that there are things that defy logical explanation, and I believe there is a greater reality than that which we can see and measure.
My mother has been dead nearly 14 years, and my father 32,
yet sometimes just as I am waking up, I sense their presence. Also when I’m
working on my family tree, exploring the lives of people who died long before I
was born, I feel a connection beyond a date and a name on a page. Like Ruth
Forman, I feel surrounded by souls.
While I feel these non-physical connections, there is a
surety that Dr. Held and Aunt Corinne have that I envy.