"Angels- 01 - A Season Of Angels" - читать интересную книгу автора (Macomber Debbie)

A Season of Angels
а
One

The manger was empty. Leah Lundberg walked past the nativity scene Providence Hospital put out every year, stopped, and stared. The north wind cut through her like a boning knife as Leah studied the ramshackle stable, her heart heavy, her life more so.
The blue of MaryТs gown had long since faded, she noted. Joseph, leaning heavily against his staff, was slightly off-balance, and looked as if heТd topple in a stiff wind. There seemed to be one less lamb this year and one of the donkeyТs ears was missing. It was a small wonder the structure remained upright with the weight of the angel, yellow now instead of golden, nailed to the top. Triumphantly, she blew her chipped horn, proclaiming the glorious news of the SaviorТs birth.
The hospital had reconstructed the Christmas scene every Advent for the last fifty years, long before Leah was born, long before she realized an entire lifetime of tears could be stored within a single tattered soul.
It was ironic that a woman who toiled as a nurse day after day on a maternity ward would be childless herself. Her work with laboring mothers was her gift, they said, her special talent. Women specifically requested that she be with them for the birthing of their children.
For whatever reason, Leah had been granted the touch, a gentle hand, and a sympathetic heart. Birthing mothers claimed she was inspiring, encouraging, and supportive. Labor didnТt seem nearly as difficult when Leah was with a patient. SheТd heard it all before, countless times, the praise, the gratitude. What most of LeahТs patients didnТt know was that she, who was an expert at labor and delivery, had never given birth herself.
Her patients left the hospital with their arms and their lives full. Each afternoon, Leah walked out of Providence alone. And empty.
Tears crowded her eyes and spilled unheeded down her cheeks. She bowed her head and closed her eyes in prayer. УDear God,Ф she whispered, choking down the emotion, Уplease give me a child.Ф It was a plea sheТd whispered innumerable times over the last ten years. So often that she was convinced God had long since given up hearing. Or caring.
Wiping the moisture from her face, she gathered her coat more closely around her thin shoulders and headed for the staff parking lot. She forced herself to smile. It upset Andrew that she continued to dwell on their inability to have children, and she didnТt want him to know sheТd been crying.
Her husband had accepted the news with little more than a shrug. He felt bad, knowing how desperately she longed for a baby, but it wasnТt nearly as earth-shattering to him. If God saw fit to send children into their lives, then fine, if not, that was fine too.
It wasnТt all right with Leah and she doubted that it ever would be.
а
LeahТs prayer whistled in the breeze, up through the bare spindly arms of a lanky birch tree, winging its way higher and higher until it had ascended the clouds and drifted into the warm winds of heaven. It arrived fresh with the salt of her tears at the desk of the Archangel Gabriel. The very angel whoТd announced the news of the virgin birth to Mary nearly two thousand years earlier. His responsibilities had been wide and varied through time, but he felt a certain tenderness for humans and their multiple problems. He found earthТs population to be a curious lot. They were stubborn, rebellious, and arrogant. Their antics were a constant source of amusement to those behind the pearly gates. Who could help laughing at a group of people who heatedly declared that God was dead and clung to the belief that Elvis was alive?
УLeah Lundberg,Ф Gabriel repeated softly, frowning. The name was vaguely familiar. He flipped the pages of a cumbersome book until heТd found what he was seeking. Sighing, he relaxed against the back of his chair and slowly shook his head. Leah was one of his most persistent cases. HeТd heard her prayer often, had ushered it himself to the very feet of God.
Gabriel had sent countless couriers to intercede on LeahТs behalf, but their efforts had been met with repeated failure. Time after time, their reports came back virtually the same. It was a familiar problem that blocked the answer to LeahТs prayer. Herself.
It would have been much easier if Gabriel could sit down with Leah and talk out this matter face to face. Circumstances arose now and again when doing exactly what was required, but generally not when it came to answering prayer. Humans tended to believe all that was required of them was a few mumbled words, then they were utterly content to leave the matter in the hands of God.
Through the ages humans had yet to discover what should have been obvious. The answers to prayer required participation. The people of earth expected God to do it all. Only a shocking few realized they had their own role to perform.
A good example was a request that had come in earlier from Monica Fischer, a preacherТs daughter. Monica had asked for a husband. Normally this wouldnТt be a problem; she was twenty-five and strikingly attractive, or would be if she didnТt choose to disguise her natural beauty. The whole process of attracting a young man was complicated by her self-righteous attitude. Few men, even devout servants of God, were willing to marry sanctimonious prudes.
Gabriel hadnТt decided how he would handle MonicaТs request or the prayer that had come in the unusual form of a letter from Timmy Potter. Gabriel had a soft spot when it came to childrenТs prayers. Timmy was nine, and had requested a father.
Gabriel shook his head, needing to clear his thoughts. HeТd deal with one prayer at a time. For the moment LeahТs request was the most pressing, and the most challenging. HeТd figure out something for Monica and Timmy later.
He stood and walked around his desk. Gabriel thought best while on his feet. It didnТt help matters that Leah chose Christmastime to issue her fervent prayer. The busiest time of year, no less. His best prayer ambassadors were already out on assignment and those who were left were young angels lacking in experience.
Of course there was always Mercy. She possessed a heart of pure gold and was especially patient with humans. But there was a small problem with this particular angel.
Mercy was enthralled with earthly things. Mechanical things. She seemed particularly fond of escalators and motor scooters and not even heaven knew what else. Reports of her escapades circulated in both spheres.
An angel, especially one under GabrielТs command, simply did not hijack meter maidsТ carts. That business with the forklift on the San Francisco waterfront .а.а. well, that didnТt bear thinking about.
GabrielТs musings were interrupted by the whisper of rustling wings. Mercy appeared bright-eyed and hopeful before him, her hands clasped in prayerlike fashion. She was a dainty thing, petite in stature when compared to several of the other prayer ambassadors.
УYou wanted to see me.Ф
Gabriel grinned. He hadnТt sent for Mercy, but apparently God had.
УIТd be happy to volunteer my services in any way I can,Ф Mercy offered brightly, her wings fluttering slightly with anticipation. УI want to prove myself.Ф
УCan you stay away from motor scooters?Ф
Mercy nodded eagerly. УAnd jet skis.Ф
Jet skis. He hadnТt heard about that one and it was best that he didnТt, not now, at least. УI canТt have you intercepting any more Boeing 747s.Ф
УIТve learned my lesson, Gabriel,Ф she murmured, and smiled innocently, as if to suggest that these incidents were a series of minor misunderstandings. УI promise I wonТt get into any of the trouble I have before.Ф
УIТm sure you wonТt,Ф Gabriel muttered.
УThen youТll give me the assignment?Ф
Gabriel stood. His seven-foot stature was intimidating, he knew. Each time the heavenly Father had sent him on a mission to earth heТd been required to calm a multitude of fears before relaying his message.
УThe prayer is from Leah Lundberg,Ф Gabriel explained with a thoughtful frown. УFor the past ten years sheТs been in constant communication with heaven. She longs for a child.Ф
Compassion filled MercyТs deep blue eyes. УHer arms must feel empty.Ф
УWhen Leah first married Andrew Lundberg the prayer request came now and again, but when she didnТt become pregnant after repeated failure, well, let me put it like this. Leah had us in a tizzy for a good long while. At one point we had five angels assigned full-time to her prayers. A year later we reduced it to one, and now her prayers are infrequent, and her faith is weak.Ф
Mercy blinked several times. УThis is a problem case, isnТt it?Ф
Gabriel nodded. Mercy had achieved some success in answering prayer, but her experience was limited. To assign her to Leah was an extreme measure. Gabriel regretted that, but he didnТt have much choice.
УHow often does she pray now?Ф Mercy asked, and her wings stilled.
УOnce or twice a year. SheТs given up believing God listens to the concerns of His children. Unfortunately sheТs given up on her faith too,Ф Gabriel explained with regret. УIf that isnТt tragic enough, sheТs walking straight towards the pit of despair.Ф
УBut thatТs not true about her prayers going unheard,Ф Mercy cried. УSomeone should tell her, give her a message, offer her hope. Why, all that poor, dear woman needs is a bit of reassurance.Ф Agitated, the petite angel paced the area in front of GabrielТs desk. УSend me, please, Gabriel, I promise to stay out of trouble.Ф
The archangel hesitated. He had the sinking feeling that MercyТs promise would quickly become famous last words.
He noticed that the tips of her wings feathered out and fluttered gently when he nodded. УIТll go with you and explain the circumstances. I canТt afford to spare you much past Christmas.Ф
УJust until Christmas,Ф Mercy protested. УThat doesnТt give me much time.Ф
УDo whatever you feel is necessary to help her,Ф he said, granting her unprecedented powers.