A 'Touched By An Angel' story

By: Yvette Jessen

*****

Forward to the reader:

This story actually started out as a comical idea because I had heard interviews about John Dye's experiences flying and the rather sad reactions people had to him because of who he plays on television. This story idea was started about a month ago, and then I got writer's block and couldn't continue until inspiration struck. When it did, I had no choice but to continue this story. The idea sort of grew into another very serious issue without me having any sort of control or knowledge over where it was essentially going to end up.

This tragic twist introduced itself to me when I had read last week in our local newspaper about a mother who had written a letter to the editor, not only putting down those who are homosexual, but directly saying that she would throw her own children out of the house if she learned that they were gay. This positively horrified me! To think that a parent would say such things broke my heart and after my husband showed it to me, I cried because I felt so sad about this individual's inability to unconditionally love her children. It also saddened me because one always wants to believe that their parents are going to love them without condition, not put a church's doctrines ahead of a child they bore out of love. I rediscovered that in many cases, this kind of thing does actually happen in real life, and it's dreadful for a child to learn that their parents never fully accepted them because of the way they are.

Because I was so upset about this, my husband suggested that I write a story about it, thus this is the result of his suggestion. The emotions I encountered with regards to what I had read, were stocked full of confusion and sadness, therefore, this was my chance to allow these emotions to play out in me as they did. If, because of subject matter you decide not to read this piece, I truly do understand and would prefer that you put this particular story aside, as to possibly offending you.

God bless,

Yvette Jessen

*****

Marianne Johnson handed her ticket to the agent at the gate. She sighed deeply as she walked down the long hallway towards the door of the airplane. As she walked amongst the other passengers, she tried, all the while, to keep the strap of her carry-on bag up on her shoulder.

The 24-year-old student was on her way home for the Thanksgiving holidays, and although she was not looking forward to the nearly four-hour flight from Salt Lake City to New York City, she was tired, and on top of that, her head hurt. As she neared the door to the airplane she could see that the other passengers appeared to be held up, as a line had formed and she could hear the voice of an elderly woman who was yelling something at the flight attendant.

Great, Marianne thought to herself, I have to sit down, before my shoulder falls off, and some old woman is yelling about something, probably something as petty as being bumped from first class down to coach.

"Hey can we get a move on?" One man shouted impatiently above the murmur of the people, annoyance evidently showing in his voice. Behind him, his wife stood, apparently embarrassed by her husband's rudeness, but she opted to not say anything.

"I'm sorry, folks," the flight attendant shouted to the crowd as she shrugged her shoulders and looked out at the people assembled. At the same time, her colleague tried diligently to assist the woman.

"What's going on," a young mother, with three young children standing at her feet, asked. "I know this sounds rude, but we all have family waiting at the other end of this flight. What's the hold up?"

The flight attendant leaned over and whispered something to the woman at the front of the line, which was getting longer and longer by the minute, and once she had told her husband, he told the man behind him, and pretty soon, the news of what was happening seemed to filter through the line. Once some of the people had heard the words of the flight attendant, they could do nothing but shake their heads and mutter something about getting the friendly guys in the white lab coats onto the plane and removing the problem.

"Is there anyone who would be willing to trade their seat?" The flight attendant finally asked as her eyes scanned over the large crowd and finally came to rest on Marianne. "Miss?" she called out motioning with her hand towards Marianne. "Are you traveling alone?"

Marianne could feel the impatient people now pushing her towards the front of the line. Once she reached the flight attendant, she glanced up and smiled weakly, contrary to the exhaustion that had overcome her as well as the migraine headache she was suffering from. "Yes, I am," she finally managed to offer.

"Would you mind terribly trading seats with one of the other passengers?" The flight attendant asked.

"I don't mind, but what's going on?" Marianne asked.

The flight attendant looked at her. "The woman thinks that the Angel of Death is seated next to her and she refused to allow us to help her get seated until we kick this man off the plane, or tell her that his plans had changed and that he has decided to switch flights. We think we can solve this problem by simply moving her to another seat, and having someone else take her place."

"Excuse me?" Marianne looked at the flight attendant as though she had just confessed to being a juggler in the circus. "The Angel of Death is traveling coach? I thought the Big Guy had better accommodations for His angels." Her voice emerged sarcastic, but she was tired and she also had a splitting headache, and although she was about as impatient as the rest of the passengers, she truly understood that these ladies were really trying, and sighing deeply, she eventually offered a weak nod.

The flight attendant smiled sheepishly, but relaxed when she heard Marianne's attempt at humor. "You don't mind switching seats?"

Marianne shook her head. "No, I don't, but couldn't you have given her another seat without having asked?"

"Not hardly," the young flight attendant replied, "this flight is completely booked, we've had to bump a few passengers simply because one of the other New York bound flights was cancelled." Marianne could see the stress evident on the face of the woman, and the flight attendant smiled, her relief evident at finding an easy solution. "I really appreciate you doing this."

"It's no trouble," Marianne said but as she felt the weight from her baggage and the equally pressing weight on her shoulder, she smiled weakly and spoke. "Can you please show me where my seat is, because I'm bushed, and I have migraine headache to boot?"

"Of course," the flight attendant led her through the plane and when they reached the seat, Marianne handed her ticket to the woman and threw her bag on the aisle seat and ran her hand through her shoulder length brown hair. It was at that moment that she laid eyes on the man in the neighboring seat.

"Hi," she offered causing him to look up at her.

"I take it they found someone to change seats with the lady who was here before?" The man asked. He carried a tired, almost hurt, expression on his face, but his green eyes were filled with openness and compassion, and up till that moment, she had never before seen anyone who had this look of wisdom and depth before. For a few moments, she found herself unconsciously staring at him, but eventually his question somehow broke her out of this reverie and she offered him a weak smile.

"Yeah, I guess I was the perfect pick simply because I'm traveling alone. No big deal, I'm closer to the door, so I can jet out of here as soon as we land," she said as she attempted to shove her bag under the seat in front of her and sit down.

"My name is Andrew," he offered.

"I'm Marianne," she said once she sat down and began to adjust her seatbelt. As she did, she reached for her purse and opened it looking for her migraine medication. As she fumbled with the small bottle, she sighed deeply and closed her eyes.

"Are you OK?" He asked.

"Yeah, just the typical migraine, I get them more often than not," she said shrugging her shoulders all the while trying to get her pain medication open. As she managed, she pulled out a capsule and sighed deeply. The flight attendant was walking by and she stopped her to ask for a sip of water.

"I'm sorry, but we can't give you any drinks until after we take off," the woman said and Marianne sighed deeply as the woman continued to walk down the aisle checking to make sure the other passengers were getting seated and not having any trouble.

"Great, I give up my seat and try to be helpful and they can't even give me a paper cup with a little water," she mumbled. "What kind of service is that anyway?"

"I have some water with me, my friends packed me something to drink for the trip," Andrew said smiling warmly at her. "Here, the water is new, never been opened, so you can take your medicine now."

"Thanks, and here I heard some nutty story about you being the Angel of Death," she smiled weakly as she accepted the bottle. "I guess when people get old, they tend to lose it or something."

Andrew said nothing; he simply turned away and looked out the window not saying anything.

She could see an almost melancholy look about him as he turned towards the window. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a moment wishing that the medicine would work faster. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if this man was the Angel of Death, simply by the way he was reacting, but she quickly dismissed this thought and put the lid on the bottle of water he had given her and slid it in the side pocket of her purse.

"Are you OK?" She finally asked him once she had taken the medicine.

"Yes," he said turning and smiling at her. "I'm fine."

When he turned back to face the window, she reached inside her purse and pulled a paperback book out and shoved the purse back underneath the seat in front of her. She opened the book, and began to read, but every so often she found herself glancing over towards Andrew and she was wondering about him, but her shyness prevented her from starting any sort of conversation with him.

Moments later, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were airborne and the flight attendants were serving lunch.

*****

Twenty minutes later, Marianne put her fork down on the tray and sighed deeply. Andrew was still seated next to her, but now he had stopped staring out the window, and she could at least see his face. He was definitely handsome, she thought to herself, his blonde hair seemed to brush down just above his deep green eyes and when he would look at her, she thought for a strange instant that he could see deeply into her soul, as though he knew her but she had never seen him before. It's strange how much a psychology student could perceive, she thought to herself.

It's obvious what I am doing; she belittled herself after some time had passed. She was simply trying to focus her energy on other people, and not on the terrible pain she had in the pit of her stomach because of the hundred or so air pockets they careened through since taking off.

"Do you feel OK?" Andrew asked, noticing her face was a little on the green side.

"Not really, but if I eat any of this glop, I'll probably spend the rest of the flight vomiting," she said more to herself than to him.

"You're really not doing well, are you?" He asked and it seemed as though for the first time since they had taken off that he was noticing the young woman who was seated next to him. "Maybe you should try to eat something, even if it's only some of the crackers."

"I can't eat anything, I feel like if I do, I'll get sick," Marianne muttered.

"Marianne, you are sick and you need to eat something," he said softly as he discreetly took the crackers from off his tray and slipped them into his pocket.

"Just mind your own business," she whispered as she tried to rest her head against the seat. As soon as she was asleep, Andrew took the crackers from off of Marianne's tray and slipped them in his pocket as well.

Ten minutes later, the flight attendant returned to collect the trays and all the Angel of Death could do was to return his attention to the window, his eyes filled with concern for the young woman seated beside him. This was no accident that he was on this plane, nor was it accidental that Marianne Johnson was seated beside him. He continued to look at her for some moments before closing his own eyes and trying to connect with the Father in his thoughts.

Sighing deeply, his thoughts drifted to his assignment. He knew that Marianne was not an abrasive person, but he also knew that she was much sicker than she was letting on and the constant motion of the airplane was going to make her feel worse before she would feel better. Father please take care of her, help me to reach her without telling her who I am. At least not here as I don't know how she would be able to take this news here. She's frightened about her health, but she's also afraid to fly. Sighing sadly, he nodded when the news returned to him that in fact; this trip might come even close to doing the young woman in.

*****

Marianne opened her eyes some ten minutes later and could feel the turbulence literally rocking the plane, and this motion was starting to get to her. She glanced over and could see that Andrew had left his seat and she couldn't help but wonder where he had gone, especially since she was now feeling remotely like a kernel of popcorn being blown around inside a hot air popper. "Oh my head," she moaned and rang the bell for the flight attendant.

When the woman appeared, she looked down at Marianne. "Yes, can I help you?"

"I feel dizzy, do you have any Dramamine?" Marianne asked as Andrew returned to his seat and inched by her to sit down.

"I'm sorry, but it's against policy rules to give out medication," the flight attendant replied, her words clipped as the plane hit yet another air pocket, and Marianne felt once again jarred.

Nodding her head numbly, she looked down at her lap. "Oh God, I can't take much more of this, it's terrible," she mumbled after a few moments had passed.

Suddenly, she could hear the captain's voice interrupting and she raised her head to listen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for any inconvenience this sudden cabin pressure may cause, but we are unable to avoid it. Coincidentally, we will be unable to land in New York for at least another three hours. The weather report states that they're under a severe storm watch, and it will be that way all through the afternoon. We apologize for any inconvenience."

Three more hours of feeling like a pinball being bopped around in a machine, Marianne thought, as she closed her eyes. I wonder where we're going to land if we're not landing in New York. "I just want to go home," she mumbled to herself as the tears began to well up from beneath her eyes and were now streaming down her cheeks.

"Marianne, is everything OK?" A voice interrupted and she glanced over and could see the concerned green eyes of the man seated next to her.

She nodded weakly, but after a few moments and for some unknown reason, she shook her head again. "I feel so sick and the motion…"

"I know," he smiled gently at her as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Just, try to relax."

"I can't relax, I mean you're talking to a person who gets motion sickness in the tea cup ride at Disney Land," Marianne said softly as she rested her head in her hands and shook it hopelessly.

Andrew nodded as the turbulence caused the plane to be jarred once again. As they did, she leaned back against the headrest of her seat; her head positively spinning and she closed her eyes once again, trying to will herself to not get sicker than she already was.

"I'm here all alone, Andrew, and now I'm so frightened," she whispered under her breath.

"Shhh, you're never alone, Marianne," Andrew said gently. "Believe me, you have no reason to be afraid. Everything is going to be OK."

"I am alone though and I'm so scared," she whimpered softly. "You're just a kind hearted person who happens to be seated next to me because some wacky old woman wanted to switch seats."

Andrew rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently, thus causing her to open her eyes and look at him. "Listen to me, Marianne, nothing is going to happen, this plane will land safely somewhere else, and when it does, you will get off and you will go home to your family. I'll help you get home, if you would like."

"H-how do you know all this?" She asked weakly. "How can you be so certain?"

"Perhaps because I have faith," he said simply. "Now, just try to relax and get some rest. We can do nothing from up here, but you can do everything possible to take care of yourself while you're here," he said gently.

"I can't sleep, I'm so stressed out, my stomach feels as though it got sent through a meat grinder," she began as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "I feel so sick, and I just want to go home."

"I know you do," Andrew put his arm around her shoulder and she tensed for a moment and then relaxed as she felt her weight shift and the man seated next to her allowed her to rest her head against his shoulder. "Close your eyes now, it's OK, everything is going to be fine. You need rest, and maybe when you wake up, the plane will have already landed."

Marianne nodded numbly, but the last thing she remembered was feeling the side of his hand against her cheek, and she fell asleep.

As soon as she was asleep the flight attendant came down the aisle and stopped when she saw Andrew holding the sleeping young woman in his arms, practically rocking her as though she was an infant. "Is she bothering you, Sir?"

"No," Andrew said shaking his head. "Marianne is very ill, do you have a pillow or blanket for her. Perhaps you could bring a hot tea for when she wakes up."

"It's so weird, but you seem to care for her, and you have only met her today," the flight attendant said shaking her head in disbelief. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that maybe you really are an angel."

She walked away, but returned some moments later with a pillow and blanket. "Here, when she wakes up, give her this, its just Dramamine, but it should help her stomach."

"Why do you do this? I thought it was against regulation," he said softly accepting the small packet with the two pills inside.

"Don't tell anyone, OK, It could mean my job," she said. "If you need anything else, let me know."

"Thank you," Andrew said softly.

*****

Marianne slept off and on for the next couple of hours, but when she opened her eyes again, she could see that she was leaning up against Andrew and he had a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"W-what happened?" She asked.

"You fell asleep. Do you feel any better now?" He asked.

"No, not really," she said softly. "I'm hungry."

"I figured, here, first take these," Andrew opened the packet and poured the pills in her hand.

"OK, but I don't understand; how did you get them?" Marianne asked weakly once she had taken the pills without argument.

"The flight attendant gave them to me for you when she saw you asleep. I guess she realized that you're really having a rough flight and wanted to help," he smiled gently at her as he handed her one of the packets of crackers he had saved from off the trays before continuing. "Here, these should help with the hunger pains, and you can eat them without worrying about getting sicker."

As he spoke, he glanced around and could see an elderly woman walking by their seats in the direction of the lavatory. She stopped and stared at Andrew for a split second the color draining from her face.

"Oh my God," she swallowed and looked at Andrew, her eyes wide with surprise and her voice failing her.

Sighing sadly, Andrew tried to focus his attention on the young woman who needed his help and not on the reaction of the old woman standing in the aisle.

"It's you," the woman managed to utter, her voice raspy. "The Angel of Death, this was no joke, he's really here, Oh, Agnes; did you see him?" She shouted to her friend who was seated about four rows behind them. She ran back down the aisle in the direction of her seat, the pale look leaving no mistake in Marianne's mind as to what had just happened. When she glanced back over at Andrew, she could see nothing short of a 'deer trapped in the headlights' look on his handsome face.

Marianne looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. "That's not the same person whom I traded seats with, is it?" She asked, her voice weak and strained.

"No, it's not the same person," Andrew said softly somehow realizing that his cover was blown, and that he would have to tell his assignment who he really was and why he was there.

Marianne swallowed the bite of cracker that she had in her mouth all the while shaking her head. "How can so many old women think you're an Angel of Death?"

"Because, that is what I am," he said weakly, his voice soft.

"You're telling me that you're really the Angel of Death?" She asked as the pieces to the puzzle began to come together. All those thoughts she had when she looked at him were quickly coming back to her.

Andrew, knowing that he had been cornered nodded slowly. "Yes, Marianne, I am."

"You lied to me," she whispered.

"I didn't lie, Marianne, I can't lie," Andrew objected.

"OK, but you didn't tell me truth either," she relented after a few moments, and then she looked at him. "W-why are you here?"

"Because I was sent to be with you during this flight," he said honestly. "I was told that you needed a friend."

"Am I going to die now? Is that why you're here?" She whispered.

"Oh no, Marianne, no one here is, you see, I'm not really here in that capacity," he tried to explain gently to her. "My presence here does not mean that someone is going to die today. Sometimes, like right now, it only means that God sent me here because He knew you were going to have a really rough time today, and He wanted me to be here with you and let you know that He loves you."

Marianne's eyes filled with tears. "God loves me? After everything I've done?"

"His love for you is unconditional, Marianne," Andrew said gently. "He wanted you to know that you're never alone."

"You showed me that, you know?"

"How did I do that?" He asked.

"You helped me to believe that I'm not alone," she said softly and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe that old woman who wanted to switch seats did me a favor."

"I think she did me a favor too, Marianne," Andrew said kindly his green eyes twinkling.

As he spoke, more and more people from the back of the plane came down the aisle, some of them overtly staring at Andrew, one of the women who had shouted out that Andrew was the Angel of Death was now standing in the aisle staring at Andrew and finally Marianne stood up, her knees a little bit shaky, but she finally looked at the woman and sighed deeply.

She could clearly see that Andrew no longer looked comfortable in this situation, and he could see the scorn on the face of the older woman. This, however, did not match the look Marianne was giving the women; she looked around and could see that the flight attendant was simply standing there watching; perhaps more from intimidation than from their duties to consider the comfort of their passengers.

Marianne finally released a sigh, her stomach still hurting, but her eyes were now alert. "It's truly ironic how you ladies are standing here staring at my friend like he's the latest prize in a turkey shoot."

"Your friend?" One of the women said sarcastically. "Do you even realize who you are sitting with? How can you honestly say that that is your friend and what if this plane crashes, are you prepared for that?"

Marianne cringed as she felt the fear encompass her. She was not all that thrilled with the idea of being in a plane crash, but yet, Andrew had already assured her that the plane would land and that no one would get hurt. She looked at the woman. "You speak these unkind words to him because you're afraid of him. You fear him and it drives you bananas simply because you don't understand why."

"When you get to be our age, you won't speak this way and you will not look at the Angel of Death as your friend," the second woman said.

"I won't ever get to be your age, Madam," Marianne said softly, but rather than elaborate, she sat back down in her seat. "Just leave us alone, OK? I'm not feeling well and right now I need to take another nap."

The three women eventually returned to their seats and Andrew looked at her, obviously relieved that the women had returned to their seats.

"Thank you, Marianne," he whispered as soon as they were alone once again.

"It's nothing, they were making me feel awkward, too," she said softly. "I don't feel very good about having people stare at me."

"I don't think very many people do," he said gently. "Tell me what you meant when you told that woman that you wouldn't get to be her age."

Marianne sighed deeply, but looked at him. "I thought you knew."

"I don't know everything, I only know what the Father wants me to know," he said softly. "Perhaps for that reason, He wants you to tell me."

"Well, there's really not much to say, I've got Cancer, and found out just recently that the malignancy is too big to remove. The doctor suggested I make this trip before I die. The problem is, I ran away from home when I was 18 and I didn't really plan on going back. The only trouble is now, I know I have to."

"Because you're sick?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, and if truth be known, I don't really know why I'm going back. I mean, my father found me living out in Salt Lake and he got my number through Information. Well, then he called me and asked me to come home for Thanksgiving," she said softly and shrugged her shoulders. "I thought he hated me, Andrew; I thought they all hated me, that's why I didn't come back sooner, but then I went to the doctor about two weeks ago, and he told me that…" Her voice broke and she began to weep bitterly.

Andrew rested a gentle hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Let me guess, he told you that it had gotten worse and that you are dying?"

She nodded numbly and looked up. "Yeah, the doctor said according to his estimates, I only have maybe a month or two left and I'm so scared. I mean, I'm only 24 and I wanted to make something special of myself, and of my life."

Andrew nodded, he knew this story; he had heard it so often as an Angel of Death. Young people with potential and capacity to give, and the Father would call them home before they would suffer too much, thus giving them a chance to break free from the pain and suffering they were exposed to on Earth. Taking a deep breath he began to speak. "I know you did, but Marianne, you have to know the truth; you are special in the eyes of the Father, and He loves you." He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, this caused her to look up and into his eyes.

"Then why did He allow me to get sick?" She asked weakly.

"He didn't allow it, Marianne, it's a disease of your physical body, nothing more. God didn't give it to you and He doesn't wish to see you suffer, that's why He gives His children the chance to come home before the pain becomes too unbearable for them," Andrew's words were gentle, but he could see the young woman next to him was still crying and he took her in his arms and held her tightly in his embrace, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.

"Then why is it that you're traveling like one of us hopeless basket cases?" She asked, from the sanctuary of his embrace all the while trying to use humor as a way of coping with her fear. As she rested there, she could feel the comfort emanating from him and when he began to stroke her hair gently, she suddenly realized how secure she felt in his arms.

Beyond the strength in his young assignment, Andrew could also see the true feelings she carried and how they were just starting to show. With a gentle hand, he continued to stroke her hair before he began to speak. "I was sent to be here with you," he said softly. "There's no other reason, Marianne. I'm not here to take you home, well not in that sense anyway. I'm here to help you find your way back to your family and to show you that you're never ever truly alone."

Marianne continued to cry, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "You know, maybe we should talk about this after the plane lands. If the other people were to catch wind of any of this, they might freak out."

Andrew smiled gently at her and nodded understanding her need for humor, but his hand continued to stroke her hair gently. "Even knowing who I am, you don't mind sitting next to me?"

"No, I don't mind, in fact, I feel rather safe in your company," she whispered weakly, her stomach beginning to hurt and she moaned slightly. "You've been so kind, and I really don't know how you can care so much for me, especially after how rude I was to you," she said softly.

"You weren't rude, Marianne, you were worried, and you felt badly because of the pain you're in," he said gently. "I'm not angry with you and I do understand."

"Andrew, we're not moving so much now, but why do I feel so dizzy?" She asked weakly.

"I don't know," he replied. "Just relax, I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Marianne allowed herself to close her eyes, and in the arms of the Angel of Death, she slept until the plane landed.

Once it did, and they were taxiing up to the terminal, Andrew shook her gently. "Marianne, we've landed, it's time to wake up."

The young woman stirred and eventually, she opened her eyes. "Andrew?"

"Hi," he smiled gently at her. "You OK?"

She nodded numbly and once they had reached the gate and the other passengers were standing up and getting ready to disembark the aircraft, and she looked at him. "Where are we?"

"Buffalo," he said simply.

"Oh my God," she could feel the tears in her eyes. "My dad…"

"Shhh, it's OK, the airline probably announced this before we were scheduled to land," he said softly. "Try not to worry, I'm sure your father knows what happened."

"I can't help it, I'm so scared," she said softly.

"I know, but remember what I told you?" She nodded numbly as he continued. "My friends are going to meet us here, they know we're arriving, and together, we'll get you to New York City, OK? Just try not to worry."

Marianne nodded numbly as she reached for her belongings and started to stand up. Once she was on her feet, she looked around and could still see those same old women staring at them. "I guess they're waiting for me to die off or something," she mused more to herself than to him, but she was surprised when he looked at her and all she could do was shrug her shoulders and grab her belongings. "I'm sorry."

Andrew squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. Once they had all of their things, they managed to leave the plane and once they stepped out into the terminal, Andrew looked up and smiled when he saw Tess and Monica standing among the crowd. "My friends are here just like they promised. Come on, let's go meet them and then we can get the rest of your things from the baggage claim."

"I have nothing else with me," Marianne said softly.

Andrew smiled and took her bag out of her hands and with his arm around the young woman's shoulders, he led her over to where Tess and Monica were standing.

"Hello there babies, how was the flight?" Tess asked, but the smile that was on her face disappeared and a look of concern replaced it as soon as she saw Marianne's taunt features.

"I have the feeling it wasn't so good, Tess," Monica said softly when her gentle brown eyes regarded the young human standing next to Andrew.

"Can I please sit down for a moment?" Marianne finally managed to break her silence. Her head was positively spinning and she began to sink to the ground. Once she was on her knees, she rested her head in her lap, the feelings cursing through her were similar to what one feels when the roller coaster suddenly stops and the passengers disembark.

"Monica, please take her things," Andrew handed the duffle bag to his friend and got down on his knees and wrapped Marianne in a gentle hug. "Come on, honey, let's get you out of here." Marianne looked at him, her eyes closing, but what she didn't expect to have happen, did, Andrew picked her up in his arms and carried her through the terminal building.

"I'm so dizzy," Marianne whispered, as everything began to spin away and she closed her eyes. "The doctor said this would happen if I got too stressed out about things."

"It's OK, just calm down," Andrew said softly as the young woman rested her head against his shoulder, but nodded weakly.

Once outside, he followed Tess and Monica to the car and once they were able to help Marianne get in the back seat, they climbed into the car and Tess started the motor.

"So, now what?" Monica asked wondering all the while why they were even in Buffalo when their assignments were supposed to be in New York City.

"How is she doing, Andrew?" Tess asked.

"Not good, the flight really was rough for her, she was frightened, and had a terrible bout of motion sickness," Andrew said, but the usual cheerfulness that he carried was shadowed with sadness and this caused Tess to look at him and speak to him as though he was a small unhappy child, and not an experienced Angel of Death.

"What is it, Andrew?"

"Cancer," he said softly. "The doctor gave her a couple of months, but I would be surprised if she were able to handle more than a week. I'd hate to say this, but I think this trip nearly did her in." He reached down and brushed a strand of brown hair from Marianne's face. "If she flies back to Salt Lake City, she won't make it. It was risky enough for her to be on a plane, but another trip like this would kill her."

Tess sighed deeply, "then there's a lot riding on her resolving things with her family."

"What are we going to do, Tess?" Monica asked.

"We will be working at her parents' church, Marianne's mother, Amber, volunteers there, and she's going to be our assignment," Tess said. "I think we also need to be arranging her a place to stay. Something tells me that Amber will not be exceedingly willing to welcome her daughter home tonight."

"Tess, I think we should probably get her something to eat, all she had was crackers on the plane and she's not looking well at all," Andrew said softly.

"Yes, baby, I think that's not a bad idea," Tess said.

"Andrew?" Marianne moaned as she tried to shift in the seat. As she spoke, her voice emerged weak, but this was an indication to the three angels that the young woman had once again woken up.

"I'm here, Marianne, it's OK," he smiled gently at her.

"Where are we?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Well, after we left the terminal building, I brought you to my friend, Tess' car, and now we are on our way to New York City," Andrew explained gently. "Don't worry, my friends were also sent here to help you so you're in good hands. I think first, we're going to get something for you to eat, and then you will at least get some of your strength back."

Marianne nodded and smiled weakly. "Will we make it in time?"

"I think we will, honey, you try not to worry yourself about this," Tess said from the front seat as she glanced over and could see that Monica was concentrating on the map that was in her lap.

Rather than saying anything else, Marianne curled up in the backseat and closed her eyes. Within moments the young woman was once more fast asleep.

"Will eating something help her, Andrew?" Monica asked, and it was clear to Andrew that his friend was as worried about Marianne as he now was.

"I don't know," he said softly. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

*****

An hour later, the three angels and the human woman got back in the car after having something to eat at a diner and Tess drove in the direction of the interstate. As Monica continued to navigate them, Marianne, now much more alert than she had been before looked at Andrew, who was now looking out the window, and could see the sun setting in the distance.

"I wanted to thank you," Marianne began, her voice somewhat stronger and this alone caused relief to wash across Andrew's handsome face. When he heard her words, he turned and looked at her.

"You don't have to," he said simply. "I am really glad that I could be of some help to you."

"You've been more than just 'some help', Andrew, you've been a true friend, much truer than anyone else I have ever known," she said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"When I went out to Salt Lake City, I wanted to study, make friends, and start over. For awhile I was doing fine, but then things started happening, I started missing classes, I was getting sick all the time, and the friends I had found basically turned their back on me and left me hanging. I never really found any true friends out there, and all the ones I had before, I left behind when I left New York," she said softly.

"Marianne, don't ever believe that all your friends will turn and run, not everyone would do that to you," Andrew said softly.

"I know, but it's still not easy to wake up and realize that my life has amounted to positively nothing, that I turned away from all of them, and now that I need them, and I'm so scared."

"Why are you scared?" Andrew asked as he reached over and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm scared they won't love me anymore, that this cancer will only be the only reason they accept me and I don't want their pity. Andrew, please, you've got to promise me that you won't tell anyone about me being sick. I have to earn their love on my own accord, not through pity, that doesn't accomplish anything. If they hear that I'm sick, they'll only feel sorry for me and it will be like they were loving me out of obligation."

"I won't say anything to them about you being ill, but you're going to have to find the courage to tell them once we get there," Andrew said softly.

"I'll do my best, but I don't know how much good it will do to talk to them, my mother can be a very stubborn person, and chances are, my father called me without her even knowing it," Marianne said sadly. "I guess it's no state secret, but the truth is I was never good enough for my mom, she's the reason I left, because she wanted me to be a lawyer or something, and I wanted to do something where I would be able to help people."

"I know this will be hard for you, but I also know that you're a strong person, Marianne, you'll get through it," Andrew affirmed.

"I hope you're right, because right now, I don't know if I have the strength you speak of, I'm really afraid," she whispered. "I guess I just want them to love me without any conditions, but maybe that's not possible unless they do know the truth, but I don't want to tell them yet."

"We understand, Marianne," Tess said from the front seat and Andrew and Monica both nodded.

*****

The sky was a black, starless nimbus when they arrived in New York City. Tess knowing the address to Marianne's family immediately drove to their apartment and managed to find a parking place not far from the large brick building. As the two angels in the front seat climbed out, Andrew helped Marianne out and once they were standing in front of the building, the young human looked at her angelic companions.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," she said softly, and glanced up towards the window where her parent's living room window could be seen.

"Are you OK?" Andrew asked her.

"Not really, but I'll live," she said softly. "Let's get this over with." She looked at him. "Will you come with me?"

"Go on, Angel Boy, we'll wait for you down here," Tess said softly. Andrew and Marianne walked towards the door that would lead inside.

As Marianne reached the door, she pulled it open and was not surprised when it gave way. "They never fixed this," she mumbled. "Why does it feel as though I'm the only one who has changed?"

Andrew shrugged his shoulders as they made their way up the stairs towards the door of her parents' apartment. She looked at him and signed deeply, her hesitating not going unnoticed by him. "Go ahead, Marianne," he offered encouragingly.

With a nervous hand, she rang the bell and waited. Within a few seconds, the door swung open and she was left looking into the eyes of her mother. "Well, look who finally decided to see fit to come back," the woman at the door spoke, the sarcasm emanating in her voice the hatred so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Hello, Mom," Marianne said softly.

"Who's this, your man of the moment?" Amber Johnson asked angrily looking at Andrew with unsuppressed bitterness.

"No, Andrew is just a friend of mine," Marianne said weakly. "Can we come in?"

"Your father is at the airport, I'm guessing that you are the reason he drove all that way this afternoon rather than staying home with his grandkids." Amber hedged and it was obvious that Marianne might as well just remain standing on the doorstep because her mother had no intention of inviting her in. "He told me he called you last weekend, but I don't know why you even bothered coming back here and disrupting the family. A family that you are no longer a member of as far as I'm concerned."

Marianne looked at her mother as though she had been struck, the pain was apparent in her eyes, but she spoke, her voice soft. "Please, let us come in. I just flew in this afternoon from Salt Lake City, I'm exhausted and I need to talk to you."

"No, I will not you in," Amber said. "If you had anything that needed to be said, then you should have said it six years ago when you up and left." With that, she closed the door in Marianne's face, and left them standing outside on the front step of the apartment.

Marianne looked at Andrew, her face filled with the utmost agony and she shook her head. "I'm going to have to tell her, but I don't want to. Andrew, what am I going to do?"

"Come on, let's go down and see if Tess managed to find a hotel, then we'll figure something out. Try not to worry," he said encouragingly.

She shook her head sadly. "I don't know what else to do, short of getting on a plane and flying back to Salt Lake City."

Andrew shook his head. "You won't be able to fly again, Marianne. I think you know this. If you get on another plane to fly back, you're not going to make it. You're getting weaker and weaker, I know it's your choice, but please consider what I am telling you."

"I have nothing left," she said softly. "Even if I die tonight, it won't matter, because there's no one here who would even miss me." With that, she walked slowly past him and down the hallway towards the stairs.

Andrew was left standing in the hallway as soon as Marianne disappeared around a corner. Reluctantly, he followed her.

Reaching the stairwell, he began to descend the stairs, but when he found her at the landing, and he could clearly see that she had fallen, and that her being upset was probably the cause for it. He could see the dark red blood, which emerged from a cut along her hairline. Smiling sadly, he sat down on the ground next to her.

"Andrew?" She whispered his name causing him to look down and when he did, he could see that her eyes were now opened and that she was looking up at him.

"I'm here, Marianne," he said gently as he brushed her hair from her eyes.

"You know, I shouldn't be surprised by her reaction," she whispered.

"Shhh, everything is going to be OK," he said kindly as he helped her to her feet.

"Yeah, sure whatever happens, I have the Angel of Death right by my side," she whispered.

Andrew sighed deeply upon hearing her words, but at that moment, this was not necessarily something he was ready to comment on.

*****

The morning sunlight streamed through the window as Amber walked into the church. She had been organizing the church bazaar for the Thanksgiving holidays and had been working on helping the homeless as well as setting up craft tables and other activities for the holiday. As she walked into the church, she could see the heavyset woman with the mahogany colored skin walking over to her. "Hello, are you Amber?"

"Yes, I am, and you are?"

"My name is Tess, and I was asked by Reverend Phillips to help out today with the festivities. I wanted to let you know that if there is anything I can do to help make things run smoothly then I'm here and will do whatever I can to help."

"Thank you," Amber said smiling weakly. In the back of her mind she was still frazzled by the fact that her daughter showed up at her home after being gone for over six years and now she realized that all she wanted to do was hide away and wash her hands of the situation with Marianne for good.

Unfortunately, her husband Charles wouldn't let her do so. Upon his return the night before, he was beside himself with worry and rage when he learned that his wife had not only rejected their only daughter, but had left her outside standing on the porch.

Sighing sadly, she stubbornly rubbed her hand over her mouth and turned towards the craft table and continued setting up the displays of the nativity scenes the school children had made in Sunday school for the coming Advent season.

"Amber, how many meals did we prepare for the homeless?" Her best friend, a woman named Ramona, asked.

"I think we have enough for maybe 100 if people don't come back for seconds," Amber said softly. "There's supposed to be someone else helping with the food. Some lady from Health services named Monica, and I wonder where on Earth could she be?"

"I'm right here," Monica's lovely Irish lilt could be heard from some three feet away and the younger angel approached, a warm smile on her face, and her brown eyes filled with kindness and joy.

"Great," Amber said. "Why don't you help the others set up over there, and then once the plates and things are out, we can open the doors and let the people come inside?"

"OK, glad to help," Monica said smiling and she went off to help the other women with the task of bringing large containers of food out of the kitchen and into the large hallway where the tables had been set up for the church's annual Thanksgiving dinner.

Once everything was set up, Amber went and opened the door and propped it open so the fifty or so people waiting outside could enter the hall. As the groups of homeless people filtered through the doors and came down the hallway and into the large open room, Amber sighed deeply when the odors of these people penetrated her nostrils. For a moment, she wanted to say something, voicing her disgust of the unrelenting body odor she smelled, she simply sighed deeply and walked back through the hallway. As she entered the lobby, she could see the line of people receiving their meals or waiting in line.

"The dinner is a huge success," Tess' voice was saying and she approached Amber once she had come into the large room. "What a nice thing this church has decided to do for these people."

"The pastor has been hosting this meal since he took residency here," Amber said sighing deeply. "He asked me to organize it some years ago, but I don't know if they asked me because I make good homemade pumpkin pie or just because I was the only one willing to work with charity cases."

Tess nodded, "well, perhaps it was a part of your strength, baby, because like the saying goes, 'charity begins at home'." With that, the angel offered her a smile as she made her way across the large room and joined Monica.

"Did you tell her about Marianne?" Monica asked.

"No, but I did give her something to think about," Tess said. "The rest will be up to her."

*****

"What if she's at the apartment, Andrew?" Marianne asked at that time. The two of them were walking in the direction of the apartment building and he could tell that Marianne was absolutely beside herself with worry about this situation.

"You know if you don't stop walking with such weighted steps, you're going to put dents in the sidewalk," Andrew said softly trying to use humor as a way to help the young woman remain calm about returning to the apartment where she had grown up.

"Very funny," Marianne answered sarcastically. "Where'd you get your sense of humor from, Robin Williams?"

Andrew sighed deeply. "No, and even though I am fully aware of the fact that you have a very sarcastic humor, I happen to know that you are hiding how you truly feel with jokes."

She stopped walking. "You're right, you know," she whispered. "My mom always wanted to help people, but what happened with her was when the time came for her to even help me make a choice about my future, she wanted to determine what I would do and I couldn't even make my own choice about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when I told you about how my mom wanted me to study law and how I left before starting my fall semester?" She asked.

"Yes," he looked at her.

"It wasn't the truth. My mom controlling me wasn't the issue, in fact, she didn't want me to go to college at all. She wanted me to find a husband, get married have lots of kids and do exactly what my older brother did. I told you that 'law school' story because I didn't want you to think that I was a total loser."

"But, I don't, you didn't have to tell me an untruth, Marianne, I had no intention of judging you," he said.

"Yeah, well I know that now, but anyway, what really happened was that I had met someone at my school who taught me about their church and I wanted to change my faith, and my mom was against it. To her, going to a different church was unheard of, even though at her church I did not feel comfortable." Marianne looked at Andrew, her sadness evident. "You see, in my mother's church, they are really conservative. They say I have to do what they say, that I would have to get married and allow my husband to control me. I wasn't even interested in getting married. I started reading books about new age philosophy and I discovered that I really liked what I read."

"What did you read?" Andrew asked.

"Well, I read about God being this loving deity who cares for us, about reincarnation, and near death experiences. Contrary to what I had heard at my mom's church, I discovered that death didn't frighten me so much and that I somehow felt calmer about the prospect of dying." She shook her head sadly. "I never told my mother about my feelings about it because I didn't want to hurt her, so…" her voice trailed off.

"You left to find your path towards God, thus leaving your family to wonder about what had happened to you and not coming back to face the truth until you had to," Andrew said softly.

"This was the only thing that my mother was unrelenting about," Marianne said softly. "I mean, she'd rather have someone to do her thinking for her than to find the courage to think for herself. I think that's why I couldn’t stay. It wasn't that I wanted to run away, Andrew, but it was that I couldn't tell her how I really felt because I knew that she would hate me." She pulled a small newspaper clipping out of her bag and handed it to him. "Maybe this will explain better than I could."

Andrew looked down at the aged newspaper clipping and began to read:

Dear Editor,

As a citizen of this city, I am outraged that the Gay Pride parade is coming through this town. It upsets me to see men holding hands with other men, and women kissing each other as though that is the most normal thing in the world. Well, I am here to say that there is nothing Christian or normal about this. In fact, I find this entire episode to not only be absolutely horrifying it is an extreme ethical atrocity.

If my daughter or son were to come to me and tell me that they were gay or lesbian, I know that the only choice I would have would be to tell them to leave, and that God would hate them for this choice as much as I do.

Regards,

Amber Johnson

As he read, the color faded from his face and once he looked at her, he spoke. "Your mother wrote this?"

"Yes, she wrote it when the 'Gay Pride' parade came through this city about seven years ago, when I was still in high school," Marianne said softly. "I was questioning my own sexuality during this time, Andrew, I was wondering if my not being attracted to men was normal, then I met this woman who was lesbian and she told me about her church and how they accept people who are gay or lesbian and so I decided to go there when my parents were out of town. Three months later, after doing some serious soul searching, I realized that I was lesbian, and well, that's the reason I left, I didn't…" Her voice once again trailed off, and she looked at him, her eyes a depiction of hopelessness.

"It's OK, Marianne," Andrew said.

"No, it's not, she thinks I'm awful, the church thinks so and God probably does as well," Marianne said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "I'm dying, and my mother hates me, Andrew, there's nothing that I can say that will change that, and even if she did know, what difference would it make? She made her point perfectly clear in that letter. Even the church says that 'God hates gays'."

"God doesn't hate anyone, Marianne, He loves all of His children," Andrew said softly. "He made you, you're as much His child as your mother is, and if she decides to hate, then that hate is stemmed from fear and not from love and that fear will distance her from the Father, not bring her closer."

"What am I going to do?" She whispered.

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can only suggest that you go back to your parents' apartment and try and talk to your father, maybe through him, you can reach Amber," Andrew said softly.

The young woman nodded and they walked in the direction of the apartment building.

*****

Charles Johnson sat alone in the apartment and he sighed deeply. He hadn't been able to sleep, not since finding his daughter some two weeks ago in Salt Lake City, and now she was probably on her way back. Amber had done it again, her hate had destroyed more than even the love he carried for his daughter. He could feel the tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. He had known for a long time that Marianne was not like other girls, maybe that was why she had left in the first place. The questions continued to resonate in his mind, why did she run away and how could he help bring them back together? Did she not know that a father's love is unconditional?

He shook his head as he remembered how Amber had gotten involved in that church, her entire point of view changing, and it made him frustrated whenever he thought about how the church seemed to do the thinking for his wife rather than giving her the freedom to think for herself. Somehow, the truth was clear to him now as to why it was that his daughter had run away, but instead of him feeling better in just knowing, this only compounded his sadness and complicated his own feelings, not only about his daughter, but also about his wife.

As he sank into contemplation, he tossed the newspaper aside and looked around the room. Amber had removed all the photos of Marianne, but one photo she would never be able to remove was a snapshot he carried in his wallet of her from the last time he had seen her.

His thoughts continued to drift until he could hear the doorbell ringing, and he got up from his chair and went to open it. When he peeked through the small glass hole in the door and saw his daughter, he swung the door open.

"H-hi, Dad," Marianne said, her voice soft, but filled with sadness.

Charles reached out for her hands and when he held them, he pulled her into his embrace. "Hello, baby girl," he smiled gently as he held her tightly, the tears streaming down his face.

"I" her voice faltered her, and all she was capable of doing was to hold tightly to him.

"Shhh, it's OK, honey," Charles broke the embrace and took her face in his hands and made her look at him. "It's really you, my little girl, but you're all grown up."

"Daddy, I have something I have to tell you, it's about why I left, and I'm so afraid…" the tears were still streaming down her face and she buried her eyes against her father's shoulder.

"If you're going to tell me that you're a lesbian, sweetheart, I know," Charles said softly.

"You do?"

"Yes, I guess I've always known, because I'm your dad. You never brought home any boys or seemed interested in school dances. I think you were more interested in the things boys did than in boys themselves. I still have your models in the basement and I remember when you asked me to teach you how to change the oil in that old Buick I used to drive."

"I feel so ashamed," Marianne started.

"You have no reason to feel ashamed, Marianne, you are what you are, and I've always accepted you for that." He smiled gently. "I'm not like your mother, honey, you should know that. I don't share her views, and as for the church, that's her church, not mine."

"I thought it was," Marianne said softly.

Charles shook his head. "No, I tend to avoid that stuff, I don't really like to have a church do my thinking for me."

After a few minutes, he finally looked at Andrew, for the first time, he noticed that his daughter hadn't come alone. "I'm sorry, this may feel strange to you, but it's been a few years since I have seen her, and I've missed her terribly." With one arm still around Marianne's shoulder, he extended his hand towards Andrew. "I'm Charles Johnson, you can call me Charles or Chuck, and you are?"

"Andrew," he angel accepted the outstretched hand.

"You've been looking after my baby haven't you?" Charles asked.

"Yes," Andrew nodded.

"I appreciate it," Charles said and his warm smile melted away and he looked earnestly at the angel as well as his daughter. "We really do need to talk about what happened last night with your mother. I wasn't here when you arrived because had driven out to the airport to meet you and when they finally got around to telling me what had happened, I had to fight my way through the holiday traffic to get back here once I knew that you were coming in from Buffalo."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Marianne could feel her strength giving out, and when her father finally released her, he and Andrew were able to help her get seated on the sofa.

"You're sick, aren't you?" Charles looked intently at her. He could see that her face looked pale and her features were sunken in. "I know this may sound out of line for me to ask you this, but you didn't contract AIDS out there, did you?"

"No, Daddy, I was really careful," Marianne said softly. "I was only in one relationship, and when I got sick, she dumped me. Since then, I haven't trusted anyone new."

"I know this must be really hard for you, and I don't assume anything about you, you know that, now you tell me everything, and we'll see what we can do, OK?" Charles spoke gently.

Marianne looked at Andrew, and when she shook her head, he nodded. "You have to tell him, Marianne," he said gently.

"Tell me what?" Charles asked.

"Daddy, I-I'm dying. I have a tumor in my brain, and they said it's too big for them to remove with surgery," Marianne said softly. "I was tested to see if I could undergo chemotherapy or radiation to remove the cancer, but the malignancy came back and the doctor said that I should make this trip home before…before…"

"Before you die," Charles finished for her and he covered his face with his hands. "I find you only to loose you again."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"There's nothing I can do to help you?" Charles asked.

"Just don't tell Mom about this."

"Why?"

Marianne shook her head, and instead Andrew answered as he laid a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder. "She wants her mother to love her without conditions, and she's afraid that if her mother knew what you now do, that she would only love her out of pity and not for the right reasons."

"You know, some things will never change, Marianne is as stubborn as I am," Charles said, but he nodded. "I won't tell your mother, honey, but you're eventually going to have to."

As if on cue, the door opened and Amber came into the apartment, her steel gray eyes shadowing over when she saw that her daughter was seated in the room. "What do you think you're doing here?" She asked shrilly.

Marianne sighed deeply and as if propelled by adrenaline, she stood up and faced her mother. "I came back, because there's something I have to tell you, mother."

"What?" Amber asked.

"I have to tell you the reason I left in the first place," Marianne said softly. "Andrew, would you get the article out of my backpack, please?"

The angel reached for the dark blue backpack and opened it. Once he retrieved the article, he came over and handed it to the young woman. "Here it is, Marianne," he said gently.

"Do you remember writing this, Mother?" Marianne asked as she extended the letter to her mother.

Amber took the worn out newspaper clipping from her daughter's outstretched hand and stared down at the writing. When she finished reading it, she looked back up at her daughter. "You came back to tell me you're gay?"

Marianne closed her eyes, but nodded. "Yes, Mom, that's why I left, I felt so much shame for being something you despised, but this whole revelation reminded me that you never really loved me without condition, and this letter proves it."

"Get out of my house," Amber shouted, her voice bordering on hysterical. "I don't ever want to see you again." She approached her daughter and began to push her towards the door. Although Amber barely came up to her daughter's shoulders, Marianne's noticeably weakened state caused her to fall backwards towards the door and Andrew had to reach out and grasp her arm in order to prevent her from falling. Amber did not stop her assault, even though Andrew was trying to help Marianne stay on her feet. He could feel the woman's hands on his own arms and she was now trying to push them both towards the front door.

"Stop it, Amber," Charles snapped, his voice breaking into the aggression of his wife. "I mean it, stop it right now."

Amber abruptly stopped what she was doing and looked at him. "Don't tell me you're taking this lesbian's side," she whispered.

"I don't take sides, but if you're going to put it that way, then yes, I'm taking Marianne's side in this regard, she is my daughter, and I'm not going to put a bunch of religious flakes ahead of my child," he paused and looked at his wife. "You know, I never judged anything you did up at that so-called church, but one thing is blatantly clear to me, since joining it you've changed and I'll tell you this; it's tragic how a church can bring out so much hate in a person, so much disrespect, so much fear. You are her mother, and you should love her as she is and accept her for the beautiful person that she is, not cast her aside because she isn't like you."

"Homosexuality is a disease," Amber shouted.

"No it's not, and not a choice either, our daughter was born this way, and that's how she is," Charles looked at his wife. "Her bedroom practices are really none of your business, Amber, and for that matter nor are they mine. The only one who has the right to judge her is God, but I'm seriously doubtful if He ever would judge her as harshly as you are doing." He looked at his wife, his eyes filled with suppressed anger.

"It's wrong in the eyes of God," Amber stuck with the same argument.

"In the eyes of God? How do you know this, did you ask Him? Did you go up to Him and say: 'God, is it a crime against your good name to be gay?' And did He answer 'yes, Amber, it is'?"

"Don't patronize me, Charles, as you know our esteemed reverend said it was so?" Amber said assuredly.

"Esteemed? The only think he's esteemed for in my mind is eating tons of your handmade pumpkin pie," Charles shook his head. "If that joker is a master in theology, then I'm a monkey's uncle."

"Charles, you're not being very fair," Amber said softly.

"Just as you're not," he said angrily. "You see Amber, you are not God's appointed judge and jury and neither is 'Reverend Pumpkin Pie'! You've got no right to condemn our daughter for something that you have been told by other people to reject."

Marianne looked at Andrew and shook her head sadly. "Andrew, I have to get out of here now, please, will you help me…?"

The angel put his arm around the young woman's shoulder, but he looked at her parents. "She did not want to come home and become the reason that you two are angry with each other, she wanted to make amends with both of you, nothing further."

With that, he helped Marianne walk slowly out of the apartment.

*****

Once they were out on the street, Marianne looked at Andrew. "I didn't want this. I think it's best that I fly back to Salt Lake City and just die."

Andrew sighed deeply, but this time, instead of arguing with her, his shoulders were slumped and he looked at her sadly. "Whatever you decide."

"You're not going to try and change my mind?" She asked weakly.

"No, I can't, Marianne, you have free will," Andrew sighed deeply, his eyes shadowed in defeat. She really wanted to go back and this was a devastating blow to him. Finally, he looked at her and spoke. "Would you give my friends a chance to maybe talk to your mom once more before you get on a plane and try to go back?"

The young woman shook her head sadly. "Andrew, I honestly don't see what good it's going to do. I'm dying anyway, what's the difference if it's here or at 30,000 feet?"

"The difference will be whether you find your peace before you go home, Marianne, and that's worth letting us try one last time to reach your mother." Andrew rested his hands on her shoulders. "Please, at least tell me that it is worth trying."

After a few minutes of contemplation, she looked at him and seeing the sadness in his green eyes, she finally nodded. "I hope you're right, because I don't feel like I have too much strength left."

"Let's get you to the hotel so you can eat something and rest up. How's your head?" He asked gently, his relief evident once he realized that she had accepted his suggestion.

"It feels like I lost a wrestling match with Hulk Hogan," Marianne said softly.

"Is it getting worse?" Andrew asked gently, but this question emerged more as a statement of fact than an inquiry.

Marianne nodded. "Yes, the headaches and dizziness are getting worse, Andrew," she reached for his hand, and was relieved when he offered it to her. "Please, can you do something else for me? It's very important, and I don't who I have that I can count on."

"I'll do whatever I can, I think you know that," he said gently. "What would you have me do?"

"Just don't let me die in a hospital, that scares me so much," she whispered.

After a few moments and he was given an affirmative answer, he squeezed her shoulder gently, but he wordlessly nodded and led her towards the subway.

*****

Twenty minutes later, they reached the hotel and Tess and Monica were waiting when they came inside the room. Marianne went and literally collapsed on the bed, thus leaving the angels to converse about what had happened once Amber had left the church.

"Angel Boy," Tess looked at Andrew, her brown eyes speaking volumes.

"It was a disaster, Tess," Andrew said softly as he looked down at his watch and returned the object to his pocket. "Marianne knows it's coming soon, and if she's going to be able to face this without fear, she's going to have to face her mother. Amber has to know the impact her hate is leaving on her daughter."

Tess nodded. "Then I guess it will be time for us to pay them a little visit, come on, Miss Wings."

"Are we going to tell them that Marianne is dying, Tess?" Monica asked.

"You know we can't, Tess, I promised," Andrew objected.

"Well, I made no such promise, and you know it, Angel Boy," Tess said softly. "The Father says that we have to, baby, and it is not our place to judge the Father's will, besides, whether we like it or not, this little baby is their daughter, and even if Amber won't admit it, she needs to know the truth so that she can chose whether or not to come and properly say good-bye," Tess said softly.

"Marianne has so little time left?" Monica asked.

Andrew nodded sadly, "she only has maybe until the end of the weekend, but even that is questionable, her state is deteriorating rapidly. She's losing ground each hour, and I'm afraid it won't be long now. I think I should stay with her."

Tess nodded and patted her Angel Boy's shoulder comfortingly. "You do that, baby. Come on Angel Girl, we've got work to do." With that the two of them disappeared.

Andrew sat down next to the bed and he began to pray as the young woman slept. His sadness was evident when he looked down at her. Her state had deteriorated rapidly since he had met her on the plane and this saddened him to see this young woman suffering so much in her final days alive.

"Andrew?" After some time had passed, Marianne had woken up and as she looked around the room until she could see him seated next to her, his face contorted with worry and she guessed it was about her circumstances. As she tried to sit up, she could feel a firm hand against her shoulder and she realized that he was trying to get her to lie back down. She complied, but her head rested against the pillows as she looked at him. "I didn't know this was going to happen, I'm so sorry," she said somehow misinterpreting his unhappy expression.

He smiled gently. "You have no reason to apologize."

"But, I do, and you really didn't expect to be my babysitter, did you?" She asked weakly.

"Perhaps, but I don't mind being here, Marianne, and the truth is, I'm glad He sent me to be with you," he said gently and brushed her hair gently from her eyes.

"I wish I could tell God how sorry I am that I turned out so wrong. Maybe I should say this to my mother, and maybe if she were to hear me say those words, she might actually love me." As she spoke, she could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Andrew rested a gentle hand against the side of her face and using his thumb, rubbed the tears out from beneath her eyes. "Now you listen to me, sweetheart. You should never ever forget that love should always be unconditional. You should not have to say the 'right' words to 'earn' your mother's love; she should simply love and accept you as you are, and it is, sadly, her problem with self-acceptance that prevents her from seeing this truth."

"It was like that article with her, though," Marianne began as the tears continued to freely stream down her cheeks. "She was so convinced that I was a bad person." She looked at him sadly, and she could feel herself loosing control of her emotions. "I just wanted her to love me, Andrew, I just wanted to know that I was worthy of her love, and of God's, too."

"You are worthy, Marianne," Andrew said softly. "Do you remember what your father said to your mother this afternoon? He said that your mother's beliefs were not in love, but rather in fear. Do you honestly believe that complete fear is the direct path to God or that an angel would be present with you during your last days on Earth, if God didn't love or care?"

"I-I don't know," she sniffed.

"Yes you do," Andrew looked at her, his eyes filled with compassion and kindness. "You told me on the plane that you believed that you weren't alone up there, and the truth is, you're never alone." As he spoke, he began to glow, the light of God's love encompassing the him and he smiled gently at her. "You may not have believed me when I told who I was on the plane, and deep down inside, I knew that you were questioning whether or not I was speaking the truth."

"H-how did you know?" She asked weakly.

"Because what those women said about me being the Angel of Death was true, and when you asked me about Heaven, I told you the truth, completely. When you heard it, you could have chosen, Marianne. You could have believed in these words or reject them, but do you believe that a God to fear would be the same God who sent you angels to take care of, and look after, you during this difficult time? Do you really believe that God hates you because of the way you are?"

"Does He?"

"No, He made you, and you're his precious child," Andrew said softly. "He can't hate, Marianne, because, God is the manifestation of all that is good, all that is love, and all that is peace in the universe. He is all that there is, He gave you your life as a gift, and He is always there with you. I promise you, He just wants you to talk to him, to share with Him the pain and joy you have in living. The only conditions that exist in God's love for you, are those which are placed on Him by other human beings, but this isn't the true nature of the Father," He looked at her, his eyes never leaving the young woman's tear-stained face. "The truth is, He loves you very much and when you meet Him, He will show you just how beautiful and special you truly are."

The young woman looked down and after a few moments, back up at him. "You're going take me to Heaven?"

Andrew smiled gently and nodded. "I will do that."

"When?"

"Soon, my friend, very soon," he said gently.

"Y-you're really an angel, Andrew," She whispered as she closed her eyes.

"Yes, and God sent me here so you won't be alone. No matter what happens, Marianne, you're never alone," he said softly.

"But, you're also my friend," she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

Andrew nodded and once he brushed her hair out from in front of her eyes, he smiled gently. "Yes, I am your friend."

*****

Tess and Monica arrived at the apartment building where Amber and Charles lived, Tess was feeling angry about the entire situation, and she continued to ponder why it was that a parent who was supposed to emanate the emotion of love towards their children were not doing this. She looked at Monica and shook her head sadly.

"Monica, I think you should take this assignment," Tess said abruptly as they reached the front door of the apartment building.

"Why Tess, what's the matter?" She stopped and looked at her supervisor.

"Do you remember what happened when we were assigned to work the AIDS hospice some years ago?" Tess asked.

"Yes, you got angry, and I had never seen you so upset since meeting you the first time," Monica said softly. "You're feeling that way again about Marianne's parents, aren't you?"

"How can a parent base their love for their baby on conditions?" Tess asked softly. "This isn't about preaching, it's about hate, it's about two people saying that they will only love their child if he or she is exactly like them. People wonder often if they can believe God loves them, but they can't even look at their own child and say those words."

"Tess, maybe you should tell Amber this," Monica said softly.

"I can't, baby," Tess said simply.

"Of all the angels I have ever known and ever worked with, you're the most capable of delivering this message, Tess," Monica said. "I think I will wait down here and you go up and tell them."

Tess was about to object, but when she looked at Monica's stubborn face, she finally took a deep breath. "Monica, we've always worked together."

"OK, I'll come, but you're going to do the talking." Monica took Tess' hand and the two of them walked into the building, and as soon as they came up the stairs, Monica rang the doorbell and when the door opened, they were both looking into the kind eyes of Charles Johnson.

"Hello ladies, what can I do for you?" He asked.

"We're here about your daughter, Mr. Johnson," Tess began.

"Is she OK? I know even though what happened today was a long time coming, but it truly wasn't intended, and I know she's hurting," he said, his words emerging somewhat rushed. "Is that why you're here?"

"Yes, baby," Tess said gently.

"Come on in," Charles said trying to offer the two angels a smile, but they could both tell that he was worried.

As they came into the living room, they could see that Amber was seated on the sofa and was flipping through a magazine. She looked up when they came into the room. "Tess? Monica? What are you doing here?"

"You know them?" Charles looked at the two women.

"Yes, they helped with the potluck lunch at the church this morning," Amber said and as she did, she diverted her attention back down the magazine she was holding.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were working there?" Charles asked.

"Charles, we're friends of Andrew," Monica said. "We have been with Marianne since she landed in Buffalo."

"You're her friends?" Amber stood up and practically threw the magazine across the room. This caused Tess to hold up her hand.

"Now hold your temper there, baby, because right now I've got something to say and you're going to sit down and hear me out," Tess said as she began to glow, and Amber's eyes widened, but slowly the woman sat down. "Yes, honey, you're going to listen, and by the time I'm done, you're going to understand this little concept called 'unconditional love'."

"I don't understand," Amber began to rub her eyes in disbelief, but after a few moments, she could only shake her head in profound disbelief.

"What part of unconditional do you not understand, Amber?" Tess asked, and when Monica rested her hand on her superior's shoulder, the older of the two angels calmed considerably.

"Who are you?" Amber demanded.

"We're angels, Amber, we were sent from God with a message for both of you," Monica said softly as she held up the newspaper clipping Marianne had shown to her mother when she had been at the apartment earlier that same day. "Where we come from, such things as this newspaper article do not exist. God loves all of his children, Amber, He doesn't pick favorites."

"That's right, Amber," Charles spoke up. "You know for a long time, ever since you joined that church, I have kept my mouth shut about the things that have been said in there." He looked at the two angels. "You know, when Amber first started attending this church, I went with her a few times, but I have to admit that what I witnessed there almost made me afraid of God."

"Why?" Monica asked.

"We were told that if we didn't obey Him, and live a good life based on what the church teaches, that we would never be allowed into Heaven. It was always this idea of doing more good out of guilt than out of what we felt was right," Charles said.

Amber could only sit speechless and listen to her husband. "I was only trying to do what was right in the eyes of God."

Tess shook her head sadly. "In the Father's eyes, Amber, one has to learn to love, not hate, not despise one's own child because of the way that child is. You have a beautiful daughter, and she got on a plane and traveled across the country to see you, but not only to see you, but to say 'good-bye' because you are the only family that baby has left, and as much as your pride has robbed you of six years of being a part of her life, it may rob you of the most precious thing there is, that is, a chance to say 'I love you', and to mean it."

"W-what do you mean by 'saying good-bye'?" Amber asked weakly.

"Marianne is dying," Tess said simply. "She doesn’t have much time left, her friend Andrew is an angel too, and when the time comes, he will escort her to Heaven and to God."

"B-but I don't understand. Why didn't she tell us?" Amber tried to find the words.

"Amber, Marianne wanted you to love her and accept her as she is without pity, she wanted you to be able to look at her, and not care what her lifestyle was, but to see her as your little girl and the gift God gave you and Charles because He loves you so much."

"What should I do?" Amber asked. "Give up my beliefs because my daughter has AIDS or something that is a result of her lifestyle choices?"

"Amber, our daughter doesn't have AIDS, nor did she get sick because of lifestyle choices," Charles said assuredly looking at his wife with sadness in his eyes. "She has a brain tumor, an inherited condition that she got from your side of the family. Do you remember when you were 18, and we had just met? It was some months after your mother had died. She had the exact same condition, a cancerous malignancy on her brain. For a long time, when Marianne and her brother, Vince, were growing up, we were afraid that Amber would have this same form of cancer." He shook his head sadly.

"I remember," Amber said softly. "The doctors' offices, the hospital waiting rooms…"

"…The bad coffee, yeah, you remember, and my sister would take care of the kids while we were up at the hospital." Charles looked at Tess and Monica. "Anyway, as luck would have, this condition skipped Amber's generation, but today, it has landed onto Marianne." He looked at his wife and sighed sadly. "Do you think I blame you or God for what has happened to her? Sure I feel horrible about it, I mean this is our little girl, she's suffering greatly from this, but I don't blame anyone for it, and neither should you."

Tess came over to where Amber was seated on the sofa and she rested a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder. "Do you remember what I said earlier about 'charity beginning at home'?"

"I couldn't figure out what you meant by that," Amber said softly, but she nodded.

"I meant, that you should exercise the same kindness on your daughter as you did with those homeless people at the church," Tess said. "You see, Amber, many of those men and women who visited and got free food are homosexual, and the reason they were there was because they were rejected by their own families, just as you chose to reject your own daughter for six years. This is all because you were not showing the same kind of charity towards Marianne."

Amber looked at Tess. "How does one do that?"

"You will have a choice to make," Tess said. "Your daughter is going to die, Amber, and you have an opportunity to make this a healing event for her. Marianne needs to find peace, but she cannot until her mother comes forward and gives her that peace she so desperately needs."

"I can't accept her," Amber said softly.

"You can't or won't?" Monica asked. "You know, you loved your daughter before you discovered that she was a lesbian, did you not?" Monica said.

"Yes, I did," Amber said softly. "But, then she left, and…"

"And you were hurt by her leaving, but not once did you stop to ponder why she left," Charles said sadly. "I always knew, Amber, but I went on loving her, because she's our child, and we raised her to be a good, honest, person. She not guilty of choosing a lifestyle, she is only guilty of running away because she was scared to tell us how she felt. She knew all along how you were going to react to her."

Tess nodded as Monica began to speak. "Now that you know the truth, you must find the strength to love her regardless of what that truth is. We cannot tell you how to do that, for that is something you alone must do."

"Alone, but how? I don't know where she is, and I don't know if I could face her now," Amber said sadly.

"We know where she is, and we'll you take you to her, but there's something else we need to tell you, and that is God loves you, both of you. It is not the vengeful and angry deity that you speak of in your church, Amber. It is not a God whom you must fall down onto your knees in front of and beg forgiveness, but it is a God who is so full of love and forgiveness," Tess said. "Baby, that is who your daughter will meet soon, and He won't reject her or her family. He loves you all very much, and that is the message we were sent here to deliver."

*****

Marianne's condition was getting worse as the hours ticked by, and Andrew knew that it would be very soon before he was to lead her Home. She slipped in and out of consciousness and at one point, she remembered having a dream that she was in a large valley filled with wildflowers and that Andrew was standing next to her.

After waking up she quickly sat up in bed and looked frantically around the room and when she finally found him seated next to her, she allowed her weakened body to fall back against the pillows. "It's starting, isn't it? I'm really going to die."

"Yes, Marianne, you are, but I'm here," Andrew said gently as he rested a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder.

"I'm so afraid," she whispered.

"I know, " Andrew said gently as he stroked her hair and took her hand gently in his own.

"H-how much time?" Marianne asked.

"Not long," Andrew said. "Rest a little now, I know that you're getting weaker, the pain will be over soon."

"Do you think Tess and Monica were able to get my parents to come?" Marianne asked weakly.

"I don't know, but I wouldn’t worry, because I think if Tess has her way she will convince them to come," Andrew said softly, but his thoughts were raging havoc on his emotions along with his hopes that they would get there in time so that Marianne could say 'good-bye' to her parents.

Please Father, he prayed silently to himself. Let Tess and Monica be successful at getting Charles and Amber here to say 'good-bye' to their daughter. I know that I will have to bring her home tonight, and without her mother's love, she may fight the inevitable. Please, Father, help her find her peace.

"Andrew?"

"Yes?"

"I think it's funny that we met on an airplane," she said softly.

"Why is that?"

"I once read that to fly above the ground but beneath the heavens was the most beautiful sense of freedom that there could be on Earth," Marianne coughed, and when she tried to sit up, she realized that her head was still spinning and she had to lie back amongst the pillows. "I think it's strange that we met on an airplane is all…and that you helped me find that freedom that I never knew existed in my life." As she spoke the tears continued to stream down her face. "Is that what's it's like in Heaven? Is there true freedom there?"

"Yes, sweetheart, there is, in Heaven in the arms of the Father, there is freedom and love and joy," Andrew smiled gently at her. "All those things magnified to such a degree that you will feel peace forever."

"Peace," Marianne mumbled as she felt the tears brimming under her eyes and she closed her eyes. "I wish…" As her voice drifted off, the door opened and Charles and Amber came into the room with Tess and Monica following closely behind. Andrew stood up and moved away from the side of the bed.

Amber walked over to where her daughter was lying and she sat down in the chair Andrew had vacated. "Marianne?"

She opened her eyes, but when she could see her mother seated by her bed, she smiled weakly. "Mom?"

"I'm sorry, honey, will you forgive me?" Amber asked weakly. "It was wrong of me to judge you, it was so wrong of me to try and justify bigotry with passing judgment on you. That letter was so wrong of me to write, and I truly regret it now, because it cost me six years with you in my life."

"You mean that?" Marianne asked weakly and tried to sit up in the bed. Amber reached for her hand and helped her to once again sit up.

Amber nodded. "Yes, I mean it, it was wrong of me to try to make you something you are not. Please, Marianne, forgive me, and please don't hate me because of this."

"I don't hate you, Mom, I love you; I just wanted you to love me too. I wanted to feel that regardless of what kind of person I was that you would love me because you're my mom," Marianne said softly, but it was obvious that she was using the last of her energy to get those words out.

"Shhh, don't get yourself overexerted, sweetheart," Amber said softly as Charles came over and sat down next to her on the bed.

"You told her?" Marianne asked her father.

"No, Tess and Monica did," Amber said softly. "They also explained why you didn't want your father or Andrew to tell me." She shook her head. "You're really as stubborn as your dad, you know that?"

"I inherited his stubbornness, but I inherited your passion, Mom," Marianne said softly.

"And that damned disease," Amber said sadly.

"Mom, forget about it, OK?" Marianne began, her voice soft. "I was never angry with you about it. I just wanted to make peace before Andrew takes me to Heaven. No matter where I go, I won't hurt anymore, and he said I would have peace. Just like I had the chance to actually make peace with you," Marianne said softly and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Marianne," Amber could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks and when the young woman reached for her, she could feel that her daughter's body literally collapsing in her arms. With one hand, Amber brushed the hair out of her daughter's face, but gently she kissed her daughter's cheek, her tears now falling freely.

Seconds later, her father sat down on the bed next to them and took both of them in his arms. As he held tightly to his daughter, he kissed her forehead all the while tasting the saltiness of the tears that streamed from beneath his eyes.

At that moment, Marianne died, wrapped gently in the arms of her parents.

*****

"She loved me, Andrew, she really loved me," Marianne spoke. She was standing next to Andrew and gazed up at him. He was now dressed in his beige suit and tie, and she glanced down at her dress and noticed that she was now dressed in a simple off-white gown. Like Andrew, she stood unseen by her parents, but she could see that they were both now embracing her lifeless body in their arms and weeping uncontrollably.

"Yes, she did," he said gently. "They both did."

"They're going to be OK?" Marianne asked.

"Yes, they will heal in time," Andrew said softly. "God is waiting for you, and I'm sure He's going to tell you very soon how proud of you He is."

"Of me?"

"You taught your mother about unconditional love," Andrew said as he took her hand in his and they started to walk towards the door leading outside.

"Is this the peace that you were talking about earlier?" Marianne asked weakly.

"Yes, it is," Andrew said gently.

"It feels nice, like I'm flying, but a thousand times higher and ten thousand times better. It's just like you said," she said and stretched her arms out and spun around, delighted that she no longer felt pain, and that her earthly restrictions were now gone.

When she stopped spinning around, her hands reached out to that of her friend, her angel, and all the while holding tightly to his hands, she embraced him before they disappeared in the halo of golden light. As they vanished in the mist, she began to cry out in utter joy. "It's been so long since I've felt this freethis loved!"

The End

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