sadness

I saw an angel. Actually, I saw one, then a second, and then a third. The first was a young adult about 14 years old. The angel wore a white gown or robe. It looked like linen.

Upon the robe was exquisite and unusual golden trim and gold embroidery. It seemed as though the gold was alive, as if it were the energy identity and the “life” of the angel – its core essence.

The gold “writing” sparkled, too. The angel moved but was completely silent. It had no wings.

Grandpa and grandma came to the USA when they were in their very early twenties.

They came with little money, so they had to rent a place to live. Grandpa was a wise man and a great observer.

In Italy he trained as a shoemaker, but here that job would not provide adequate income. So he found a factory job for steady income, but he also found wealthy clients who could pay richly for handmade shoes.

Grandpa marveled at the public transportation system. With one coin you could ride, then “transfer to anyplace you want to go.” He never spent money on owning a car.