A 'Touched By An Angel' Story

By: Yvette Jessen

The large church glimmered in the bright sunlight as five-year-old Chelsea Winkler walked up the marble steps towards the doorway leading inside. Before entering, she looked cautiously around and when she noticed that no one was paying particular attention to her, she slipped silently inside the large marble building.

As she did, she found herself self-consciously looking down at her ragged clothing, but once she had walked into the darkened sanctuary, her style of dress no longer seemed to matter as the darkness of the church concealed her ragged appearance.

Approaching the altar, she found herself compelled to stare up at it, the baptismal located on one side, a large crucifix on the other. A reddish colored rug adorned the altar, and she glanced up and could see that the pulpit was somewhat raised, making the curious little girl wonder what it would be like to see the rest of the church from this fascinating place. As she came closer to the altar, she suddenly stopped and her attention was diverted onto something else, and that was where the pipes of the large organ ran along one wall. Next, she looked towards the wooden pews beckoning her to come and sit down, but the insecurity of doing so dwelled so deeply within her heart that it made her hesitate, and she remained standing at one side of the church watching as visitors from all over the world filtered through the large open sanctuary.

Eventually she could see that the sunlight shining through the large stained glass windows, and when she looked towards them, she could see the symbols of Christianity as well as angels etched out in those glorious shades of blues, reds, yellows, and greens, the vastness of this place making her feel small and insignificant, but the light filtering in through the stained glass windows leaving a shiny multicolored prism in their wake.

In one corner of the room, there was a table set up, and on it was a large black book, initially she thought it was a Bible as it was opened, but when she came closer, she saw some of the visitors were writing in the book, and she realized that this must be a large guest-book. She closed her eyes for a split second, her face filled with a new sense of determination and she walked over towards the book once the last of the guests had left. Approaching the large book, she stared down at the writing that adorned its pages, the words of the visitors of the magnificent German church practically leaping out at her.

Chelsea, although still a very young girl who had barely reached the age to attend school much less read or write, could actually do so, but she never told anyone of this gift. The truth was that her father had taught her before he had died, and his death left her an orphaned child in a word of negativity and pessimism.

She reached for the pen that was placed in the middle of the guest-book, and turned to the next blank page. As she looked down at the white page, she could feel the tears in her eyes as she began to write.

Behind her, a man stood, but this was not just an attractive man in his 30's with compassionate green eyes and a friendly smile, he was an angel, and his name was Andrew. He had been watching the little girl ever since she had come into the large church, and he had been following her through the sanctuary. He knew that she could not see him, but he found her to be positively enchanting, contrary to the filth and dirt that encased her.

He continued to watch her as she wrote something in the large book and once she turned around, he smiled gently at her thinking all the while that she could not see him, but when she looked him directly in the eyes, her sapphire eyes filled with suppressed fear and sadness making him almost wish that he could look away.

"Hi," she said softly causing him to smile cordially at her. When he did, she looked down at the shoes she wore on her feet, unable to meet his gentle gaze.

"Hello, sweetheart," Andrew said softly, his gentle heart completely taken by the little girl. He could not help but stare at her, those sweet eyes of hers seemed to carry pain, but also in the recesses of them there still existed a sort of sweet innocence of a child. Seconds later, her tiny hands folded before her and without saying anything to the kind-hearted man whom only she could see, she walked slowly away from the table where the guest-book lay.

As soon as the small girl was gone, Andrew looked down at the book and could see her writing, the German words practically leaping out from the page. 'Lieber Gott, ich Hab Dich Lieb.' (Dear God, I love you) and the little girl's name was written underneath it, Chelsea.

"She's your new assignment," the Father gently told His angel and the look of compassion that covered his face was suddenly transformed into a look of concern for the little girl.

"Father, she…" his voice trailed off as God's comforting reassurances continued to filter through the consciousness of this gentle Angel of Death. "Will I have to take her home?"

The answer did not come, and as he looked around, he could see that Tess and Monica were now standing in the church, and both of them were now approaching him as he stood and looked down at the somewhat messy script of the tiny child whom had captured his heart only moments ago.

"Angel Boy," Tess' gentle alto voice broke into his thoughts, and as she approached him she could see that his gentle green eyes were filled with sadness.

"Hi Tess, Monica, what are you doing here?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but when he saw them he couldn't help but wonder what they were doing in Germany, specifically since he was sent there alone.

"The Father thought you could use a wee bit of help, Andrew," Monica said, her charming Irish lilt somehow offering him some comfort. She glanced down at the book, and smiled sweetly as she could see the innocent and loving script of a little girl somehow reaching out to her. "This is beautiful."

"It's the simple innocence of a child," Tess said.

"So who is your assignment?" Andrew asked.

"It's that man over there, his name is Georg Müller and he is one of the pastors of this church," Tess explained as she pointed over towards where a man in his mid sixties was standing near the altar.

"What is it about him?" Monica asked.

"He's lonely, ever since his wife and son died, he has practically buried himself into this church, into his liturgies and doctrines. Oddly, he lost his family over 30 years ago when they both died, now he has no one," Tess said. "At least, not yet."

"Is this somehow connected to Andrew's assignment, Tess?" Monica wanted to know.

"They both have something in common," Tess said and she looked at Andrew. "Now, we have places to be, so you'd better get going, Angel Boy."

Andrew nodded as he walked towards the entrance to the church. Once he stepped outside into the sunshine, he could not help but smile. Across the courtyard, he could see a number of children playing, their joyful laughter erupting the stillness of this beautiful place. Below, he could see the town as it stretched out before him like a panorama of sights, sounds, and feelings.

Still further down he could see as the children disappeared in the distance, all of them except for one. He slowly descended the steps and walked towards where a small girl sat on the edge of a curb, her long tangled blonde hair hanging down over her those sad sapphire eyes.

Before he could reach where she was, an older woman came over, grabbed the small girl by the top of her arm and jerked her to her feet. Andrew watched as the small child's innocent eyes filled with tears.

As they disappeared in the distance, Andrew glanced skyward and shook his head sadly.

*****

Chelsea was once again brought down the stairs and into the basement that evening after visiting the church, the owner of the orphanage following her inside. "You've run off again, and I want to know why?"

"I like the church, Mrs. Friedrich, I wanted to see God," Chelsea said softly.

"Maybe God doesn’t want to see you," the woman snapped as she grabbed the shoulders of the little girl roughly. "I don't want you to run off again, if you do, then there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the tiny girl said, her voice barely above a whisper. As soon as Patricia Friedrich had left the room, she closed, and locked the small child inside.

Chelsea spent a lonely night in the basement of the orphanage, her thoughts consumed with the fright she endured at having to spend this much time alone. The days passed quickly by and she tried desperately to get back to the church. If she wrote another letter to God, maybe He would help her find a mommy and daddy who wouldn’t hurt her, and who would help her get out of the orphanage. She knew that she needed God's help, but at the same time, she could not help but ponder the cruel words her guardian had said.

Maybe God didn't want to see her, maybe He couldn't love such a disgusting creature as her, but she needed to try. She needed to discover whether or not she was worth the love of a Father who wouldn't leave her, and maybe if she could discover that she was worth the love of God, maybe then could she begin to love the person He created.

*****

Three days later, she managed to get away from Patricia Friedrich during a visit to the town, and for some strange reason, she found herself looking shamefully down at her clothing more often than not. It was that day, three days after her first entry in the guest-book that she would meet the somewhat gruff pastor of the church.

Chelsea had hoped that she would be able to get her letter written before Mrs. Friedrich would miss her and come looking for her. As she reached for the pen and began to write her next message to God, she did not notice that Georg had spotted her and had come over to her, his hand reaching out and grabbing her shoulder right as she had finished writing the third word to her simple message.

"What are you doing?" Georg asked trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He could see that the small child was frightened, and in some ways that did not matter to him, but on the other hand, he could not help but see that this fragile and frightened child had crumpled to a heap on the floor her tiny hands wrapping around her neck and her half expecting him to strike her.

"It's OK, little girl," he said softly once he could sub-consciously hear Tess' voice whispering in his aged ears. He could not physically hear the words from the angel, but he could sense that someone was saying 'calm down, Georg," to him and this was resonating through his mind, thus leaving a calming effect on the cynical preacher.

For some strange reason, it surprised him that he was as calm as he was. He had never been this calm around people, but when he looked down at Chelsea, he could see the raw fright emanating from the small child and he found himself glancing down at the three-word message Chelsea had written to God. "Bitte, hilf mir!" (Please, help me!)

Before he could even say or do anything to the small girl, the door to the sanctuary opened once again and a middle-aged woman entered the church, her abrupt voice and mannerisms brought Georg back down to Earth. "So there you are," the woman said to the small child, and the preacher could see the angry almost accusing eyes of Patricia Friedrich as she approached and literally jerked the small girl from off the floor of the church and walked without even a word to the preacher towards the door.

As soon as the woman and the little girl disappeared outside, Tess appeared to Georg in human form. "You see, Georg, there is someone who is in as much pain as you are in, but she has managed to maintain her faith that God is good."

Georg looked at the guest-book and then at the angel. "If God was so good," he muttered, "then why does he allow children like that to endure so much pain?" With that, he walked back towards the pulpit leaving Tess standing alone watching his actions.

Andrew appeared at this moment, and he looked at Tess. "We're running out of time, Tess, if that little girl spends any more nights alone in the basement of that orphanage, then I will have to take her home."

Tess nodded, her Angel Boy was right; they were running out of time.

*****

For some reason, Chelsea could never forget this day; today had actually been the day that she had met Georg Müller for the first time. Now, as she sat in the basement of the orphanage for the third or fourth night in a row, she remembered how she had come into the church, her face still depicting pain, and this time, she could not see that Monica and Tess had joined Andrew and now the three angels had been standing in the sanctuary watching her.

She remembered how she had once seen Georg in the church before she had even written her pleas to God in the guest-book. She could vaguely remember how he would stand at the front of the church, his wrinkled hands pressed against the Bible, but for some reason he never seemed to notice the little girl was even there until he had turned around that fateful day and had seen her standing next to the guest-book, her small hand flipping silently through the pages.

He was so intimidating, and he seemed to be angrier than a representative of God was supposed to be, so thought the small girl. But, there was something about his eyes that matched her own, the same kind of pain that she knew and she found herself becoming more curious about this person than anything else.

Now she was cold, it had been getting colder outside, and Chelsea was so frightened. She had been shivering involuntarily since Patricia had locked her inside this room. She closed her eyes, but within seconds, she opened them again and looked up to see that she was no longer alone.

As her eyes met those of Andrew, she closed them for a split second and when she opened them again, she could see that the angel was still standing on the opposite side of the room. "You were in the church?"

"Yes, I was," Andrew said softly.

"Who are you?" She whispered; her voice filled with fear, but also traces of wonder.

"A friend, Chelsea, my name is Andrew, and I saw your messages in the guest-book at the church," he smiled gently at her.

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, and after a few minutes, she approached him hesitantly, but once she reached him, she extended a small hand out and touched his arm. Pulling her hand abruptly away, she stared up at him, her eyes wide. "Y-you're real."

"Yes, I am," he said, his voice emerging filled with the utmost compassion and gentility.

"How did you get in here?" She asked weakly as she looked around the dark room where she had to spend another fright-filled night. This always happened in the orphanage, and this basement room where she had to stay was a scary place for a five-year-old child who was still afraid of the dark. She looked around the room, and then back at him. Silhouetted around him, she could see a warm and loving light, but she continued to rub her eyes thinking all the while that it was a dream or that she was imagining everything that was happening to her.

"Does it matter?" He asked gently.

The little girl shook her head, but she looked at him, her innocence emerging as did her words. "You won't leave me all alone, will you?" She asked, as she began to cough, the soreness of her throat causing her words to emerge barely above a whisper, but the pain from the dry coughing caused the tears to stream from beneath her eyes and down her cheeks.

"No, I won't leave you, Chelsea, but how long have you had this cough, sweetheart?" Andrew sat down on the mattress next to her and he rested a gentle hand against her forehead. At that moment, he could feel the heat of her skin from the fever she had.

Chelsea shook her head. "I don't know, I'm so cold in here, because there are no blankets for me to wrap up in."

"How often are you forced to sleep down here?" Andrew asked gently.

"Almost every night," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Because, I always try to go to the church and write letters to God in the guest-book there. I hope that He will see them and send me a new mommy or daddy so I don't have to be some unwanted kid anymore," Chelsea could feel her emotions starting to get the better of her, and this, if anything, made her once again begin to cough, and Andrew wrapped the shivering child in his arms.

"Shhh, it's OK now," Andrew said gently as she stopped coughing and her soft sobs replaced it. "God heard your prayers, sweetheart, that's why He sent me."

"Are you an angel?" The little girl asked, as she felt Andrew's arms around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Yes, I am," he smiled gently at her.

"I'm so scared," the small child whispered.

"I know you are, but now you have nothing to be afraid of. No matter what happens, you have an angel who will stay with you, who will help you," Andrew said as he tried to inch out of his jacket and wrap it around the sick child.

"You won't ever leave me?" She asked as she closed her eyes.

"No, honey, I'm going to stay right here with you," he said gently.

*****

The following morning, it was Sunday and as the lights from the winter sunshine reflected off the snow, Chelsea woke up to hear the sounds of the church bells in the distance. As she tried without success to move, she realized that she felt hot, and her face was sweating contrary to the damp chills of the room where she was trapped. "Andrew?" She moaned in the stillness hoping that the angel would still be there with her as he had promised.

The Angel of Death leaned over her so that she could see his face before her. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm here with you."

"I don't feel good," she moaned, her soft voice filled with fear.

Andrew nodded, "I know."

"Mrs. Friedrich probably forgot me again," Chelsea said softly as she looked towards the small window located on one side of the room. "I sometimes would sneak out of here through that window, but now I'm too scared."

Andrew closed his eyes for a moment and it was then that he realized that this little girl would have to sneak away in order to save herself. As soon as he opened his eyes, he could see that the little girl had once again closed hers. "Chelsea, why don't you give it a try?"

"You mean; leave?"

"Yes," he said. "You need medical help sweetheart, you're getting sicker."

"But, you won't fit through the window like me, you're too big," the small girl objected looking imploringly at him. "I don't want to be alone out there and I don't want to leave without you."

Andrew nodded and looked at the pensive face of the small child and he took her shivering body in his arms and held her in his embrace. "You know, I cannot very well tell you what to do, Chelsea, but I can tell you that no matter what you decide to do, you won't be alone sweetheart, you will have God with you, and I can promise you that He won't leave you alone to cope with all of this."

Chelsea nodded and after a few moments, she allowed the embrace to end and she slowly climbed up on top of the mattress and tried to jiggle the lock on the window. After a few seconds of trying, the lock gave way and the tiny girl managed to craw through the opening. Once outside, she turned back towards the window, and she could see that Andrew was still inside and was looking out through the window.

"I-I'll sneak inside and get the key," Chelsea said softly and as she started to walk slowly towards the front door, but within seconds, she could feel a gentle hand on her shoulder and she turned around and saw that Andrew was now standing next to her, his eyes filled with the love he carried for this special little girl.

"I think that now you need to go and get help," Andrew said softly. "I'm not trapped in there anymore."

Chelsea practically threw herself into his arms, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she regarded the angel with the utmost relief at seeing him standing before her. Before their embrace loosened, she looked up as the intense fear shadowed her face and she could see Patricia Friedrich's car was now pulling into the drive, and before Chelsea could say or do anything, the irate woman stopped the car, cut the motor, and got out.

As she approached, she regarded Chelsea with anger in her steel gray eyes. "What is she doing out and who the devil are you?" Her question was directed at Andrew and the angel looked down at his clothing and he realized that he was now in human form, and was casually dressed in jeans and a sweater. Over the sweater, he wore a long winter coat.

Chelsea began to cough before Andrew could even offer an answer, and rather than answer the woman's questions, the compassionate Angel of Death looked at Patricia Friedrich and his green eyes were filled with sadness as he addressed the woman. "Chelsea is a very sick little girl, and she needs to see a doctor," Andrew said. "Since she receives no help from you, I am taking her to a place where she can get some medical help."

"She's not sick, she's just a child who fakes illness to obtain sympathy from other people," Patricia said assuredly as she reached out and grabbed Chelsea's hand. "Now, I want you to get your tail back inside the house right now."

As the small child began to walk towards the doors leading inside, Patricia pushed her roughly in that direction and when Chelsea turned back towards Andrew, he could read the heartbreak in the small child's eyes. One more shove from Patricia caused Chelsea to fall onto the ground, her knees scraping against the sidewalk and eventually she began to cry once again.

The angel continued to watch as the small child stood up and disappeared inside the orphanage as his tender heart went out to the small child. "Please," he implored the woman. "You may not see this right now, but if she doesn't get to a doctor, she will die."

"I will do nothing of the kind," Patricia said assuredly, "now get off my property or I'll call the police and have you removed by force."

Andrew turned away, and once Patricia had gone back inside, Tess appeared next to him. "I don't know what to do," he said softly shrugging his shoulders. "If she gets hurt, it will be all my fault Tess, I'm the one who told her to try." Tears brimmed from beneath his loving green eyes, and he looked at Tess in utter hopelessness.

"Don't worry, now I want you to go and stay with that little girl, and Monica and I will see what we can do. Right now, Chelsea is going to need you, Andrew," Tess said gently as a scream erupted from the house.

Without even contemplating what would happen next, Andrew ran towards the door, opened it, and rushed inside the front hallway. When he reached where the screams had emerged he watched in horror as Patricia was giving the child a beating and Chelsea's energy eventually gave out. The angel watched helplessly as the frail child sank to the ground, her sad eyes meeting his and her tiny hand reached out towards him just before losing consciousness.

"Stop this," Andrew shouted. "She's a little girl, Patricia, you shouldn't be doing this to her." As soon as Chelsea had passed out, the outraged woman shoved the child aside and walked out of the room without even looking back.

Andrew crouched down beside Chelsea his eyes filled with sadness when he was told not to move the child, that if she was to die that day that he would be her Angel of Death. This nearly made him begin to cry, and he huddled over the small girl, the tears washing over his face as he cradled the small body of the child in his arms.

"Father, please let her live, she needs so much strength," Andrew said softly, his words barely above a whisper as he stroked the hair of the little girl. "She trusted me, Father, she believed everything I said, and I was the reason she was hurt. Forgive me, Father, please, and help me forgive myself for having hurt her."

"You are not at fault for Chelsea being harmed," the words of the Father encompassed him. "You helped give her some extra strength and courage, Andrew. I want you to stay with her, and if she has to come Home, I trust that you will make her journey wonderful."

"Thank you Father, thank you so much," Andrew said softly, the tears streaming from beneath his eyes, but this time, the relief washed away the pain he carried in his heart.

*****

As Georg finished the Sunday service, he watched as the congregation got up and left the church's sanctuary. As soon as the people disappeared through the door, he looked around the large room; the wooden pews now empty except for a few people who were still left to pray. He could see two women, they sat together their eyes closed and he concluded that they, too, were in prayer.

After a few moments, he noticed that the older of the two women had stood up and approached the front of the church. "I enjoyed your sermon today," she said softly as she arranged the large angel pendant that she had hanging from a silver chain around her neck.

"Thank you," he said softly as he closed the large Bible located at the front of the church.

"By the way, my name is Tess, and my friend and I are visiting from out of town and I wanted to ask you something about the guest-book that you have near the entrance."

"What about it?" Georg asked.

"Did you ever see the beautiful sentiments that some of the people have written in it. Sometimes they write about the church's appearance, and sometimes they actually write letters to God. I was just wondering if you had ever read the guest-book?" Tess asked.

"Not really, thirty years ago when I started preaching here, my wife would read the guest-books, and she would talk endlessly about them, but today it's just there for the people to enjoy, to see how many people have come here, from where they had journeyed and how many foreign languages are present in them. Strangely, I never really thought about what was inside of it."

"Did you ever see the words of little children in there?" She asked as she walked slowly towards it, all the while, hoping that he would follow her.

As he walked towards the table where the book was kept, he could see that Tess had opened the book and that once he came closer, he could see that the words 'Lieber Gott, bitte hilf mir' was written on the page and he looked down and ran his hand across the page. "How can I help her if I don't even know where she is?"

Tess looked at the man. "Georg, if you are going to help Chelsea, you have to remember something very important."

"What?" He asked.

Tess rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You have to remember who that woman was that you saw with the child when she came in to sign this book some days ago."

"How do you know about all of this?" Georg asked weakly. "I've never seen you before. How can I remember a woman when I can barely even remember the child?"

"Georg, think about where you grew up," Tess said and with that she disappeared leaving the preacher alone to contemplate her words.

As soon as recognition dawned on the older man, understanding encompassed him and he shook his head in disbelief as he pulled his robe off and revealed a dark suit and tie beneath it. The robe, instead of returning it to the closet where it belonged, he tossed it quickly over the table and without reaching for his thick winter coat, he raced outside into the cold. "Oh, Father, please let me get there in time," he prayed as he ran down the marble stairs and continued in the direction of the city's orphanage.

"Thank you, God that I actually remember where this place is," he mumbled under his breath and within minutes he had arrived at the large dark gray house. Once he reached the gate, he opened it quickly and came into the courtyard. He smiled weakly at the children who were now outside building snowmen, but instead of stopping to talk to them, he walked quickly up to the door, and immediately began to bang on it, bringing Patricia Friedrich to it.

"Where is she?" He demanded once the woman had opened the door and stood there glaring at him. "Tell me now, or I'll have you up on charges of child neglect."

"Who are you talking about, Pastor Müller?"

"Chelsea, she's the little girl who visited the church, and the same one you dragged out of there yesterday," he said his gray eyes looking at her without blinking and from looking at him, the woman could clearly tell that he was not in the mood to be crossed.

"She's not here," but before Georg was to be put out by the cold words of the woman, he brushed by her and came into the house. In the front hallway, he saw that the young girl was unconscious on the floor, Andrew was crouched down next to her, the face of the angel was pale, and the color quickly drained from the preacher's own face.

"Not here?" He asked weakly as he reached the small girl and picked her tiny body up in his arms and walked with her to the door. Behind him, Andrew followed, his worries evidently showing, but neither Georg nor Patricia could see that the angel was still present.

Sadly, Andrew knew that Chelsea still had a battle ahead of her. From the doorway, he watched as Georg turned around and looked at Patricia, his eyes filled with anger. "You're just a cold as your mother was," he whispered. "I will put a stop to your cruelty and that you can bet the farm on."

With that said, he turned and carried the defenseless little girl outside, through the gate and in the direction of the bus stop. Once he was there, he waited for the bus to come and take them to the hospital, but when it didn't, he managed to call out for a taxi and asked the driver to take them immediately to the hospital.

Monica smiled and nodded as soon as Georg had managed to get himself and the little girl into the back seat, she took off down the street in the direction of the hospital.

All the while, Georg retained his hold on the small child, his hand caressing the girl's death pale cheek. "You're going to be OK, little one," he whispered softly to the small child, but when she didn't respond, he could feel the tears in his eyes as he reached the sad conclusion that the frail little girl was just waiting to die.

"Georg, keep talking to her, let her know that you care for her. If she knows someone loves her, then she will find her will to keep living," a voice emerged and he looked up and into the compassionate green eyes of the Angel of Death.

"You. Oh my God, it's you," Georg whispered as soon as the recognition hit him as to who it was who had just addressed him. His sad gray eyes eventually glanced down at the little girl on his lap and he found himself looking back over at the angel and meeting his loving gaze. "Andrew, why are you here?"

"I was sent to watch over this little girl some days ago, Georg," Andrew said as he reached over and brushed the hair from the child's eyes. "I am not here to hurt anyone, I was told that I needed to keep her company while she was abused, and today, she has taken ill and now she desperately needs your help."

"My help? Why couldn't you help her?" Georg wanted to know. "If she is as much worth to you, why couldn't you get her to the hospital and save her life?"

"I cannot interfere here, Georg, I can guide people spiritually, but I cannot interfere in mankind's free will, it would be wrong of me to do so, as it would have been wrong of me to tell you to have Jana's life-support shut off 30 years ago. I can only do so much, the rest would be up to you or to other humans involved in the lives of those I am there for. The fact is, I cannot do very much besides offer my comfort, and tell those who need me about God. An angel cannot change these events, we can only help people by making them aware of their options."

As he spoke the little girl shifted in Georg's lap and the preacher looked down at her as her eyes slowly opened. "Sweetheart, are you OK?" He asked as he continued to stroke her face with his wrinkled hand.

"Andrew," the little girl whispered.

In response, the angel reached over and touched her hair with a gentle hand. "I'm here with you, Chelsea."

The sapphire eyes of the frail child looked up at Georg once she had received the assurances that Andrew was also still with her. "W-who?"

"My name is Georg Müller, I'm the preacher at the church, Chelsea," he said gently as he stroked her cheek. "Don't be afraid, no one is going to hurt you."

"Y-you were mad at me," the soft voice of the child said.

"No, honey, I wasn't mad at you. I'm just not very good with children is all," he said softly.

Chelsea looked at Andrew and then at Georg, but eventually she closed her eyes and slipped out of consciousness as Monica pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. Once Georg got out of the car, he managed to help the little girl. Once he held her in his arms, the two angels, the preacher, and the little girl entered the large, marble building.

*****

The prognosis was in, Chelsea had pneumonia, and for a child at that age, this was serious business. Georg sat alone inside the waiting room and as he looked around, his thoughts were flooded with memories of his wife and son. He could not help but to remember what had happened to them after the accident that killed them. His son had died instantly, but his wife's life hung in the balance all of it depending on whether or not she wanted to be kept on life support.

He had rather reluctantly chosen to take her off life support and this was the most difficult decision he had ever made. He shook his head as he continued to see people walking through the halls. Within seconds, someone came and sat down next to him. "I brought you a cup of coffee," the gentle female voice said and he looked up to see that the cab driver was now seated next to him.

"I thought you had to work," he said, his words emerging neither angry nor happy, if anything, they emerged unemotional.

"Oh, but I am," Monica answered as she ran her hand down the pants she wore once she sat the second cup of coffee onto the table.

"It's truly ironic, you showed up at just the right moment," he said smiling slightly.

"Yes, that is rather ironic," Monica said. "I could not help but wonder why a preacher has taken such an interest in a little orphaned girl."

Georg shifted uncomfortably, but he smiled weakly. "I was an orphan myself. In fact, I grew up here in this town at the same orphanage Chelsea lives in. I know who Patricia Friedrich is, her mother was in charge of the orphanage when I was there as a boy. Patricia was a very arrogant child, she was a year older than me, but she was as unkind as her mother. I remember as a child growing up how her mother would beat me and some of the other kids, and Patricia would see this, and she grew up believing that she was better or more important than an unwanted child." He shook his head. "When I became an adult, I met my wife, got married and learned that I was more than an unwanted child, and it was through her encouragement that I became a man of God."

"But you don't feel that anymore, you go through the motions of being a man of God, but your pain hides that faith away," Monica said softly as she began to glow and she looked at the man with all the love and understanding that she was capable of showing.

"Who are you?" He asked weakly.

"I'm an angel, Georg, sent from God with a message for you," she said and smiled. "It was no accident that you met Chelsea when you did, for that wee girl is a reminder to you of the purest and most beautiful faith that exists in this world, and that is the pure and innocent faith of a child."

"Is she going to live?" Georg asked. "That guy with her, Andrew, he's an Angel of Death, I remembered him when my wife died. People would think I was crazy, but I saw him there and then he was gone and I was alone in that room."

"Andrew is a loving angel, Georg, and it breaks his heart to have to take a child home, especially one as caring and loving as Chelsea. If he had a choice, he would hope that she would live a long and happy life, but sadly, since her father died, this little girl has prayed without ceasing for a new mother or father. She has begged and pleaded with all that faith that sustains her for help from the Father, and He in turn, has sent Andrew to be her friend and her angel."

"You mean, she will die?" Georg asked.

"We do not know that answer, Georg, only God knows, but I want to tell you what I tell people very often when I speak of the truth. Truth is not always defined in the words of a sermon, they are the words that God speaks to each person, perhaps they emerge in the falling rain, or the sound of thunder in a distant sky. Whether you chose to listen to His words is a matter of free will, which is the gift He has given you, and the same that He gives to all of his children. If you are afraid, then put all of this fear in God's hands and let Him decide not only for Chelsea, but also for you. If you trust in him, then you will allow the Father to encompass this situation with His love and grace and you will find that this will heal all the pain that is inside of you."

Georg nodded numbly. "It's always been hard for me to do that, and even as a pastor, I fall short of being able to keep the faith or to trust that the words are from Him and not from myself. Sometimes when I'm up there preaching, I realize that I am not only trying to convince the congregation of those words, but I'm also trying to convince myself of them."

"Is that why you shut yourself off from people?" Monica asked.

"Yes, I suppose that is why," he said softly.

"Today, you have the power to help a little girl, and thus help other children who must live with neglect and humiliation. You are the chosen one, Georg, regardless of what happens to Chelsea, you are the one God wants to take on this job. He wants you to take the orphans of this town and give them a reason to keep living. They are spiritually dying in that house; they are denied all the goodness and mercy of God because of ignorance, bitterness or anger. You are the one whom God has chosen to wake the faith that is in these children. If you do so, then you will probably wake of the wavering faith that dwells within you as well."

Georg although he could feel the tears that were streaming from beneath his eyes, eventually nodded and he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, Monica was gone.

*****

Chelsea was still unconscious in the hospital bed some hours later. To one side, a simple IV was next to the bed, and Andrew sat watching over the small child, his hand holding tightly to hers, his other hand brushing ever so gently through her hair. He was still on stand-by, and this was hard for him.

"Put your faith in the Father, Angel Boy," Tess' voice resonated through the room, her gentle alto voice penetrating his thoughts, and eventually, the Angel of Death nodded numbly.

"I'm trying, Tess, but look at her," he whispered weakly and Tess could tell beyond any doubt that Andrew's heartstrings were being tugged at by the pure love and innocence that dwelled in the heart of this sick little girl.

"Now listen to me, Andrew," Tess said gently. "You have as much to learn about faith from that little baby there as Georg has, and I want you to take her to God's country and you two just sit down and talk about this. You're like a dog chasing its tail in this regard, and all that it's doing is leaving you gasping for breath. Now, for crying out loud, put it in God's hands, and talk to that frightened little girl."

With Tess gone, Andrew reached over and rested the side of his hand against the hand of the small girl. Within seconds, the white walls of the hospital disappeared and they were both standing in a beautiful valley filled with wildflowers. Chelsea looked around where they were and then she looked at Andrew, he was now dressed in beige, his hair neatly combed and he was glowing.

As the little girl looked at him, she was overcome with joy and she reached her tiny hand out towards him. "You're beautiful."

Andrew smiled gently at her, but he spoke his voice filled with his assurances. "As are you, Chelsea."

The little girl shook her head, but when her friend offered her a nod, she finally glanced down at the clothing she was wearing. Gone was the old dirty dress she had outgrown, and in it's place she wore a yellow sundress with a full skirt. She looked down at the dress in childlike wonder and then back up at him. "I feel like a princess." As she spoke, she began to spin around, but after a few seconds, she lost her footing and lurched forward. Andrew caught her in his arms and she looked up at him grateful that he had prevented her from falling.

"You're not afraid?" He asked.

Chelsea shook her head. "No, but you look so sad. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," Andrew said softly as they sat down on the soft grass.

"It's pretty here, is it like this in Heaven?" She asked weakly as she began to pull some of the fragrant pink flowers from the earth.

"No, Heaven is much prettier than this," Andrew said softly.

"Really? I mean; it's nice here, it smells like honeysuckle and the air is fresh and clean like it is right after it rains," Chelsea said softly. "I wish I could stay here with you forever."

"Why?" Andrew looked at her.

"You're the first grown up I remember who hasn't hit me," she said softly. "My mommy used to beat me, and then when my daddy died, I went to live with Mrs. Friedrich and she beat me, too." She looked at Andrew the sadness still evident in her eyes. "Why do people beat me up? Is it because I'm so bad?"

"No, honey, you're not bad, you're a beautiful little girl, and you've taught me a great deal since I first met you," Andrew said softly. "Not too many people can teach an angel about faith, usually it's the other way around."

"I taught you?"

"Mm-hum," he nodded and reached for her hand. When she offered it, he squeezed it gently, his green eyes filled with love and compassion. "The first time I saw you, I saw your letter to God in the guest-book at the church. I remember reading it and smiling because although you had been hurt, you maintained the love that God is good and that He loves you even more than you can imagine."

"I hoped that if I told Him enough, that He would love me," she said softly.

"Oh, He does, sweetheart, He loves you so very much," Andrew said gently.

"Am I going to die?"

"I don't know, Chelsea, but I do know that the possibility does exist," he said softly.

"I'm afraid," she whispered.

"I know, but do you know what?" Andrew asked; his voice encased with the tenderness, which he felt for the small child seated next to him. Once Chelsea shook her head, the angel continued to speak, his words filled with compassion. "No matter where you are, I'll be right there beside you, and I'll hold your hand and take you straight to Heaven."

Chelsea looked down at her lap and after a few moments, she managed to look at him. "You'll take me to God?"

"Yes," he smiled gently at her.

"I never had any friends before, Andrew. Will you be my friend?" The sapphire eyes of the little girl met his and he could feel the tightness in his chest as her words emerged.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the angel nodded. "Yes, I'll be your friend, Chelsea."

"You'll never hurt me?"

"No, never," Andrew took the little girl in his arms and as he held her tightly, she buried her face against the jacket he wore. As he felt the moistness of her tears he looked down at her. "Chelsea, tell me something, what do you have to live for?"

"You," she said softly. "I think it would make you sad if you had to take me to meet God right now, but I don't know any other reasons."

"Is there not something that you would like to do that you've never done before?"

"I used to see other kids going into the ice cream parlor. They would order large scoops of ice cream, and they would get toys and presents from their parents," Chelsea could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes. "I used to ask God to make it possible that I could go to the ice cream parlor and eat a large bowl of ice cream. I would be wearing a dress like this one. Do you think it's stupid to have that wish?"

"No, of course not, and maybe there's a way that that wish will come true," Andrew said softly.

"Would you take me to have an ice cream, Andrew?" Chelsea asked, her voice filled with sadness, but encased in innocence.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

"Then I have a reason to fight, I want to live," Chelsea said softly as she threw herself into the arms of her friend.

*****

It took another three days for Chelsea to come out of the coma she had slipped into since she had been admitted to the hospital, but through the entire time, Georg had remained there and he had every intention of adopting the small girl if she were to come out of the coma, but he had also filed formal charges against Patricia Friedrich and managed to hire someone to take care of the children.

As he came into Chelsea's room that afternoon, he could see that Andrew was seated by the little girl's bed and he greeted the angel nervously. "Hello, Andrew."

"Georg, she's fighting, I think she's going to be OK," the angel said.

"You really did care for her, didn't you?" Georg asked as he watched Andrew brushing the hair out from in front of Chelsea's face.

"I still care for her, and I am grateful to the Father for letting me be there for her," Andrew said softly. "When she wakes, I have one more promise to fulfill, and then I will go, but Georg, love this child, give her the strength she needs. She not only receives it from God, but also from loving people like you."

"I won't disappoint you," Georg said.

"You're a man of God, Georg, don't disappoint Him, and you're not," Andrew smiled and with that, he disappeared and seconds later, Chelsea opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Hi," she whispered, her voice emerging more or less as a sigh rather than just a greeting. "Where's Andrew?"

"He said something about a promise, but I think he's waiting to fulfill that when you get out of the hospital," Georg looked at the small child. "Chelsea, how would you like to become my little girl?"

"You mean?"

Georg smiled and reached for her tiny hand. "I want to be your new daddy, that is if you will have me."

"I thought you didn't like me," she whispered.

"I realized during the past few days while you slept, that I can't imagine my life without you. You see, I don't have a family either, I'm a lonely old man, but you taught me about faith. Like you, I lost everything, but you maintained the purest of faith, and perhaps, that is what taught me that it's more than just talking about God, but it's about trusting Him." He pulled the large black guest-book out of the shopping bag. "I thought you and I could read this while you're here, and then when we get back to the church, you can be the keeper of the book."

"Me?" Chelsea asked.

"You're the best qualified for it, but there's something else I have to tell you, and that is that the other children won't ever have to be abused by Mrs. Friedrich again."

"W-what happened?"

"She was arrested some days ago after Andrew and I brought you here," Georg said softly. "Do you remember?"

The little girl shook her head. "All the others are lost."

"Well, when someone is lost, they can usually be found, I know because I've been lost for over 30 years, and I was found, by you," Georg smiled gently at the little girl and when he took her into his arms, he could feel the tears in his eyes.

"Can I call you 'Papa'?"

Georg tightened his hold on the small child, but in her arms, he eventually nodded.

*****

Five days later, Chelsea was released from the hospital and as she and Georg came outside, Andrew was standing on the curb, Tess and Monica were standing next to him.

"Andrew!" The little girl ran straight into his arms.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he smiled the relief evident on his handsome face that his young friend was once again healthy. He picked her up in his arms and held her in an embrace before returning her to the ground.

"Are you here to take me for ice cream like you promised?" Chelsea asked as a gust of wind blew through her long blonde hair.

"That I am, but isn't it a bit too cold for an ice cream? How about a Cocoa instead?" Andrew offered.

"No, I want an ice cream, besides if you don't fulfill your promise then you will have to come see me next summer," Chelsea said softly, but after a few moments, her face brightened as she looked up at the angel. "Maybe I'd prefer to have a cocoa, then I know I will see you again."

The Angel of Death nodded and smiled, but when he turned and could see Tess and Monica smiling at the young girl, they both knew that Andrew would be back to see her, and when his eyes met those of Georg Müller, this idea was something that the older man would also not mind.

Chelsea reached out and took Andrew's hand. "I'll have a cocoa with you, your friends, and my new Papa, and then you can take me home, read me a story, and tuck me in."

Andrew smiled, nodded and bowed humbly before the young giggling little girl. "It would be my pleasure to accompany you."

Georg looked at Tess and Monica and together the three angels and two humans left the hospital. "Thank you, Father," he whispered as they made their way across the parking lot. "Without your angels, I would never have found the family that was waiting for me here on Earth."

As he finished speaking, Chelsea had dragged Andrew over to where he was standing and she reached out with her free hand and took the preacher's hand and they walked towards Tess' red convertible.

Above his head, a white dove was cooing as it flew overhead and disappeared in the trees.

The End

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