stained-glass window, revealing a hundred-strong female choir. “Hymn Forty-three, ‘The Angels Have Shown Me My True Path,’” said the preacher into the microphone. The congregation rose. With a crescendo of harp music, the soprano choir began to sing, and then everyone else joined in as well, voices resonating like thunder. I fumbled on the shelf in front of me for a white leather book entitled
Angelic Hymns
and flipped it open. Half singing, I glanced at the pews around me, hoping to catch sight of Beth. I couldn’t see her anywhere, but I did see that I was almost the only person who was actually using the book. Everyone else was singing the words by heart, some swaying with their eyes closed.
Suddenly I noticed the dark-haired guy again: he was across the aisle from me a couple of rows back, also at the end of a pew. He wasn’t singing at all, just sort of frowning down at his book. I gave a small smile, glad that someone else found this weird, too.
The music ended and the congregation sat down, the notes of the song still vibrating through the church. The preacher gazed silently out at us. When he spoke again, his voice was throaty with emotion. “My fellow devotees, we are here today for many things, but first . . . first, we must give thanks to the angels. For today we have three new residential members of our Church: three blessed devotees all joined together in love of the angels, who have pledged their lives to serving them.”
Beth.
I caught my breath as thousands of voices intoned, “Thanks be to angels!” The woman next to me looked close to tears of joy. “Oh, praise the angels,” she said again, shaking her head slightly and gripping the pew in front of her. “More souls to do their holy work.”
My heart beat faster as I shifted on the pew, craning to see. As the harp music quivered around us again, the choir began to sing in pure, silvery notes, their voices lifting up to the high vaulted ceiling. Slowly, three people in sky-blue robes filed out and stood facing the congregation: two women and one man. I spotted Beth immediately. She was on the left, her honey-colored hair falling loose on her shoulders. Even without the huge TV screen, I could see that she was smiling — a radiant smile that stretched across her face like a beacon.
Leaving the pulpit, the preacher moved down the short line and greeted them one by one, clasping their hands. Finally he turned back to the congregation. On the screen behind him, tears were glistening on his round cheeks as he spoke into a handheld mic: “And now, as our beloved angel blesses our new members, let us all reflect on the angels and give thanks for their eternal love.”
Our beloved angel.
I tensed, wondering what was about to happen. There was a rustling noise as people seemed to get settled, some bowing their heads, some closing their eyes. Only barely lowering my own head, I peered up through my hair, keeping an anxious eye on Beth. What if she was whisked away again after this, and I wasn’t allowed to speak to her?
A deep, waiting stillness fell over the church. Several endless minutes crept past; I fiddled with the drawstring of my bag, twisting it around my finger until it hurt. At the front, Beth was looking upward expectantly.
And then I saw it.
An angel had appeared; a glorious haloed creature of radiant white light and stretching wings. My breath wilted in my chest. It was like the being I’d seen in Beth’s memory, but
here,
real, right in front of me, shining so brightly that it dazzled my eyes. Its wings moved slowly as it hovered over the new members. From the sheer delight on Beth’s face, she had seen it, too. She smiled at the angel above her like a child experiencing all of her Christmases at once. Drifting to the floor, the angel landed beside her.
I stared up at the big screen and stiffened as I saw the features of its proud, beautiful face. Oh, my God, it was the same angel that I’d seen in Beth’s memory,
Angelic Hymns
and flipped it open. Half singing, I glanced at the pews around me, hoping to catch sight of Beth. I couldn’t see her anywhere, but I did see that I was almost the only person who was actually using the book. Everyone else was singing the words by heart, some swaying with their eyes closed.
Suddenly I noticed the dark-haired guy again: he was across the aisle from me a couple of rows back, also at the end of a pew. He wasn’t singing at all, just sort of frowning down at his book. I gave a small smile, glad that someone else found this weird, too.
The music ended and the congregation sat down, the notes of the song still vibrating through the church. The preacher gazed silently out at us. When he spoke again, his voice was throaty with emotion. “My fellow devotees, we are here today for many things, but first . . . first, we must give thanks to the angels. For today we have three new residential members of our Church: three blessed devotees all joined together in love of the angels, who have pledged their lives to serving them.”
Beth.
I caught my breath as thousands of voices intoned, “Thanks be to angels!” The woman next to me looked close to tears of joy. “Oh, praise the angels,” she said again, shaking her head slightly and gripping the pew in front of her. “More souls to do their holy work.”
My heart beat faster as I shifted on the pew, craning to see. As the harp music quivered around us again, the choir began to sing in pure, silvery notes, their voices lifting up to the high vaulted ceiling. Slowly, three people in sky-blue robes filed out and stood facing the congregation: two women and one man. I spotted Beth immediately. She was on the left, her honey-colored hair falling loose on her shoulders. Even without the huge TV screen, I could see that she was smiling — a radiant smile that stretched across her face like a beacon.
Leaving the pulpit, the preacher moved down the short line and greeted them one by one, clasping their hands. Finally he turned back to the congregation. On the screen behind him, tears were glistening on his round cheeks as he spoke into a handheld mic: “And now, as our beloved angel blesses our new members, let us all reflect on the angels and give thanks for their eternal love.”
Our beloved angel.
I tensed, wondering what was about to happen. There was a rustling noise as people seemed to get settled, some bowing their heads, some closing their eyes. Only barely lowering my own head, I peered up through my hair, keeping an anxious eye on Beth. What if she was whisked away again after this, and I wasn’t allowed to speak to her?
A deep, waiting stillness fell over the church. Several endless minutes crept past; I fiddled with the drawstring of my bag, twisting it around my finger until it hurt. At the front, Beth was looking upward expectantly.
And then I saw it.
An angel had appeared; a glorious haloed creature of radiant white light and stretching wings. My breath wilted in my chest. It was like the being I’d seen in Beth’s memory, but
here,
real, right in front of me, shining so brightly that it dazzled my eyes. Its wings moved slowly as it hovered over the new members. From the sheer delight on Beth’s face, she had seen it, too. She smiled at the angel above her like a child experiencing all of her Christmases at once. Drifting to the floor, the angel landed beside her.
I stared up at the big screen and stiffened as I saw the features of its proud, beautiful face. Oh, my God, it was the same angel that I’d seen in Beth’s memory,
Similar Books
