A New Year, A New Look

Ever felt an angel's breath in the gentle breeze? A teardrop in the falling rain? Hear a whisper amongst the rustle of leaves? Or been kissed by a lone snowflake? Nature is an angel's favorite hiding place.

Terri Guillemets

With Christmas over, I was wondering what to do to replace the background. Many of the backgrounds I found that would fit for this time of year, though beautifully done, were gray and bleak, much like the New York City skyline. Then, I happened across this one and just knew that this is the one that was meant to be. Angels have always been a part of my life, and from the day that I was touched by an Angel, I knew that I am never alone. When you open your heart to them, you can feel their presence surrounding you.  Welcome them,  open your heart and mind, talk to them, and they will bless you and your life.

 "Where are the angels, mother?

        Though you have often said
They watched at night around me,

        And safely kept my bed;

    "Though every night I listen

        Their voices low to hear,

    Yet I have never heard them,--

        Where are they, mother dear?

    "And when the silver moonshine

        Fills all my room with light,

    And when the stars are shining,

        So countless and so bright.

    "I hope to see them coming,

        With their fair forms, to me;

    Yet I have never seen them,--

        Mother, where can they be?

    "I saw a cloud, this evening,

        Red with the setting sun;

    It was so very lovely,

        I thought it might be one.

    "But when it faded slowly,

        I knew it could not be,

    For they are always shining;

        Why come they not to me?"

    "My child, when through your window

        Shines down the moonlight clear,--

    When all is still and silent,

        And no kind friend is near,--

    "Are you not glad and happy,

        And full of thoughts of love?

    Do you not think of heaven.

        That brighter land above?

    "These thoughts the angels bring you;

        And though the gentle tone

    Of their sweet voices comes not

        When you are all alone;

    "Yet they are always leaving,

        For earth, their homes on high;

    And though you cannot see them,

        You feel that they are nigh."

H.P.Nichols