Was she an angel sent down from heaven to entertain me and my sister? I looked up at her in awe. Each word that came out of her lips floated on silky notes that were filled with color. I was mesmerized by the beauty of it. Unwilling to look away.
A smile had formed upon my face and began to grow as the melody heightened. She didn’t seem to notice, as she was lost in her own worship. Those around us could see the vision that was mounting before them. They smiled. Pulled their children closer and returned to their own reverent adoration.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my sister’s hand, slowly stroking this angel’s arm. I mimicked this action. It felt like we could not get close enough to her, but we didn’t want to disturb her. We didn’t want this moment to end. It was surreal. Other-worldly. I felt as if I was on a cloud with this beautiful creature, holding a special invite to join in her worship, as it built moment by moment.
The choir was singing in the background, but their voices were muted, put there just to frame her sweet sound.
The song was coming to an end. Tears streaming down our faces. Was this real, did this just happen? Is that what it feels like to be in the presence of one so holy?
As the last note was sung, she quietly and respectfully closed the hymnal. Putting it in its rightful place at the front of the pew. Then she looked down lovingly at the two of us, wiped away our tears, and gathered us into her arms.
My sister and I had just had church with an angel, our mama.
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