A 'Touched By an Angel' story

By: Yvette Jessen

Bethany Richardson stared down at the poem she had just written as she tossed the pen aside and stared forlornly down at the piece of paper, which she had been composing her latest work on. She took a deep breath as she stared down at it. "It's not the best I've ever written," she muttered under her breath, not really expecting anyone to answer. Her mother worked nights at the local library, her older brother was upstate at the university and her older sister was spending that Friday night at her best friend's house.

The seventeen-year-old began to draw flowers on the page, but after a few moments, she realized that she found little, if no, peace with this aimless doodling and jerked it from the notebook and crumpled it up, all the while sighing deeply.

She had been writing poetry ever since she was a little girl, but today it was her secret desire to be a poet. After all, nobody cared how fat a poet was, nobody expected a poet to look like 'Miss America'. As she cast a fleeting glance at her reflection in the nearby mirror, she realized that she was probably the furthest thing from a beauty queen that could possibly have existed. After she squashed the paper into a tight little ball, she tossed it into a nearby wastebasket all the while; the tears were streaming from beneath her despondent brown eyes.

I hate my life, she thought sadly to herself. She looked down at her body, her sense of despondency growing. Overweight, with pimples, hand-me-down clothes, and lacking self-esteem. She shook her head and looked back in the direction of the mirror that was along one wall of her room. She grimaced when she saw her reflection, and it was obvious that she would have given anything to throw the heaviest rock against the smooth surface of the pain of glass.

So many times she had wanted to throw it all away, and just end her life, the hopelessness was too much to bear sometimes. Her sister was popular, her brother was revered, but she was the youngest, felt as though she was a mistake, she had been told that she was unsuccessful, and now she was unhappy and miserable. I've never been asked out on a date, never really had friends that were mine, my father walked out on us when I was five, and today my best friend has been a box of chocolate cream-filled doughnuts, she thought bitterly, but after a few moments, she glanced over at the small plaque that sat along one side of the room. She remembered this day, it was when she was thirteen and had won first prize in a poetry contest, but today, she kept her work mostly to herself and only wrote poetry for herself.

Bethany was convinced that the only reason she had won at anything was because no one could have seen the face of the girl who had written the poetry. No one could see the pain that she carried in the recesses of her heart, it was the same pain that emerged time and again whenever she thought about this lonely existence called 'her life'.

Without thinking, she went back over to the wastebasket, retrieved the piece of paper where her poem was written and removed it. Back at her desk, she flattened it out and stared down at her work. It had been more than anything, her prayer.

I would give the ability to write poetry back if I could just find someone who could understand and accept me as I am, she thought sadly as she looked out the window and could see the clear blackness of the night sky. Splashed across the black velvet night, were the stars shimmering like diamonds in the distance. She had often tried to write poetry about the sky, endless and inspiring, but today, all she could see was the pessimistic side of it, there was nothing good about it, it was filled with darkness, enfolding and suffocating her; leaving her alone and isolated in a world of misery and sorrow.

At the window, she looked down at the paper, but seconds later, she allowed the wind to catch it, the gusts sending it sailing of the window, before her eyes and out into the beautifully clear star-filled night.

As it disappeared in the distance, she looked down at her clothing, and then back where the paper had disappeared. Without another look, she closed the window and pulled the curtains together.

*****

The same night seemed to have left a similar empowering impact on Adam. The Angel of Death had just taken another suicide victim Home and his emotional stance was none too optimistic. He walked slowly and listlessly through the park, his head constantly down as he felt the tears brimming from beneath his sad gray eyes.

How could anyone lose all their hope and not be able to cope with whatever it was that life seemed to give them. He sighed deeply, his questions raking havoc on his emotions, and he wondered how it was that such a strong and confidant angel as himself could get so caught up in all the unhappiness that seemed to be dominant in humanity, at least right now.

He continued to walk, the shadows filling his spirit with the sadness that emanated him whenever he experienced that which most people would call 'on the job stress'. Most of his angelic friends did not know the extent of sadness that encased him when his job had started to get the better of him. He never really showed himself as anything but strong, willing, and able to do his job. Today, however, all around where he stood, there was a feeling of emptiness and sadness. For this reason, the Angel of Death was grateful that the Father had not yet sent him on another assignment.

After a few moments, he found a bench and sat down, his eyes staring in the distance and wondering what it was about this small town that made his depressed state grow with each second that ticked relentlessly by. I failed, were the words that were filtering through his consciousness; if only I had been more compassionate, more understanding, he thought sadly as a sheet of paper suddenly landed on the ground before him. He glanced down and looked at it and after a second, he leaned over and retrieved it. Once he held it in his hands, he discovered that it was probably something that someone had intended on throwing away, but did not. Using the light cast upon him by the nearby street lamp, he began to read the flowing script on the sheet of paper.

"I was walking alone through the street. My heart was open for newness…" His voice trailed off as he stared down at the four line stanzas that adorned the page. After a few moments, he glanced skyward. "Father, what is this?"

"That is a poem, Adam, and your new assignment wrote it." A stern sounding voice suddenly interrupted him and upon hearing the all-too familiar voice, he glanced up to see that Sam was now standing next to him, the supervisor's supervisor was now smiling gently at him.

"I beg your pardon?" Adam looked at him as though Sam had admitted to juggling bananas in the circus, but instead of voice this thought, he waited until the older angel had seated himself next to him on the bench and began to offer an answer.

"You heard me, Adam, and now is not the time to pretend that you have lost your sense of hearing; now that you've got an assignment who really needs you," Sam said. "You will be put on Casework again and your assignment's name is Bethany Richardson. According to Ronald in Bookkeeping, you had been moderately successful with these kinds of cases, and the Father has decided that you are to get a new one."

"Me, but why?" Adam asked.

"Well, right now, Monica, Tess, and Andrew seem to have their hands full with their current assignments, so they will join you when they get finished with those cases. From what I understand, they should be able to wrap this up pretty soon, but as to how long it will take them, only God knows."

"I can't do casework," Adam objected. "Not right now, Sam," Adam objected.

"Adam, I heard about Harry Daniels, and you know perfectly well that you did do everything you could to keep that young man from taking his life, but now you have to let go. He's with the Father, and you know that he is happy. However, I think that if you have an understanding of why young people want to take their lives, and then it might help you become more understanding towards them when you are sent to be their Angel of Death. You will be given a chance to see first hand the kinds of things they face."

"What should I do?" He asked.

"You will be taking a position teaching English as Hogan High School, your classes will be at the junior level, and your assignment will be in your fourth period class. You may find yourself relating to her because she's rather rough around the edges, too. I'm not saying that to hurt your feelings, but she and you seem to share something very significant with each other. You both somehow share this belief that you don't make a difference in this world. Bethany is not going to be easy, Adam, but once you are able to break down the barrier surrounding her, you will probably be the most capable angel of them all who can help her."

"Sam, you're saying that she's a teenager," Adam objected. "I can't work with teenagers, they're going to think I'm the biggest fuddy-duddy that ever existed."

Sam looked at Adam. "You are talking just like a teenager right now, Adam, and the point of this is that you need to understand that there is a girl at this school who is lonely. She needs to be understood, and probably as much as you do. You will see what I mean when you meet her."

Adam looked at Sam with the intention of raising an objection, but at that moment, he realized that Sam had disappeared, and he was now seated there alone. After a few moments had passed, he looked down at his clothing, all the while taking a deep breath. He was now in human form, but he eventually stood up, and began to walk in the direction of the apartment building where he would be living over the course of this assignment. At this point, he knew that he had little choice, and whatever the assignment meant; he would have to go through it. He looked around the empty park, but smiled when he realized that it was Friday and released a sigh of relief when he realized that he would not have to work on this until Monday morning.

He pulled a key out of his pocket, all the while wondering what was going to happen once he assumed the role of an English teacher. Moments later, he reached the front door to the building, unlocked it, went inside, and allowed the door to close behind him.

*****

The school building was located about three blocks from where Adam lived. He liked the building, from the outside, the high school looked like any normal building, which was situated in the middle of the small town. The locals did what they could to keep things neat and pristine, the work they had done had been recognized not only when visitors came from out of town to visit, but also from the people themselves.

As he walked through the courtyard in the direction of the school, the angel could see the kids flocking in from all directions towards the building. His shuffling steps seemed to give off the distinct impression that he fit in here. As he walked inside, he could see that a number of the kids were running past him with not a care in the world.

On one side of the crowded hallway, in front of a locker, stood Bethany Richardson, the young girl shuffling her books, some of them falling to the ground, as she tried to pull her locker open. It stuck and she realized that she had to pull somewhat harder, but there was something about the sticky locker that she liked. In fact, this was something that kept her from going to the assistant principal and asking him to give her a new one.

"Come on, you stupid thing," she muttered under her breath as Adam found himself walking over to where she was still trying to pull the locker open.

"Sometimes it helps if you hit it," he offered, his deep baritone causing her to turn around.

"Yeah," she said, but did as he suggested. As the locker sprung open, she turned around and looked at him. "Who are you?"

"My name is Adam, I'm sort of a substitute teacher here," he said.

"Sort of? That would be like me saying I'm kind of pregnant," Bethany said the snappy response rolling off her lips. "Either you are, or you aren't."

"Are you pregnant?" He asked innocently and instead of laughing, he watched as she slammed her locker door shut and looked at him, her eyes filled with contempt.

"You'd better not meet my sister, she just might add that one to her repertoire." Bethany snapped. "I get it now, you're here to make fun of the fat girl just like everyone else," Her voice changed, as she continued speaking. "I've heard it all: 'Someone better call Greenpeace, there's a beached whale here,' or 'when's the baby due?' There is probably not one 'fat joke' that I haven't heard, I just never expected one of the grown-ups around here to start them too. I guess you're trying to fit in with the younger crowd. First name, petty insults, what next?"

"I-I didn't mean it that way," Adam stammered and he looked at his assignment. "I'm sorry, I-I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't," Bethany said softly as she turned away from him, but not before the angel saw the hurt that shadowed her face. She reached down and grabbed the books that were now scattered on the floor.

Once he was alone, Adam took a deep breath. "Father, I'm the wrong angel for her," he whispered under his breath, and luckily, no one could hear him muttering to himself because the halls had pretty much emptied out and he was now standing there alone. Moments passed and Tess appeared next to him.

"Hello, Angel Boy," she said gently deciding not to jump on his case about the mistake he had made.

"Tess, I really screwed that up," he said softly.

"Adam, sometimes an angel makes a mistake, and to know that is going to do more good for Bethany than bad. You just hang in there, baby."

He nodded and after Tess gave him a gentle hug, he wiped his hand over his face and walked slowly in the direction of the office where he would get his room assignment.

*****

Adam was nervous later that day when his fourth period class filtered into the room. He sat at the teachers' desk, but when Bethany walked into the room, the prepared speech that he had given to the previous classes got stuck in his throat and after the bell sounded, he looked up and his gaze met Bethany's momentarily and he watched as the teenager unconsciously cringed from her place in the back of the room.

Once he cleared his throat, he finally found his voice and began to speak. "Hello everyone, Mr. Reynolds is not feeling well today, so they sent me to be his substitute teacher, my name is Adam, and as long as you respect me, I'll respect you."

From the back of the room, Bethany snorted. "Yeah, right, we know all about that drill, don't we guys?"

"Stow it, you sow," one of the boys said from the front of the room as the other kids started to laugh, leaving Bethany to flush with shame. When she looked up, she could see that Adam's gaze was on her and she shook her head as she looked away.

From the front of the room, Adam could see that she was having a hard time dealing with this, and he offered her a gentle smile before returning his focus to the rest of the class. "Listen guys, how do you expect to earn respect when you don't give it?"

The other kids did not respond, but he watched as Bethany looked up momentarily and her gaze met his own.

"So where is 'Old man Reynolds, any way?" One of the boys asked.

"Nothing serious," Adam confirmed. "This is flu season."

"Too bad, Chris, you're still going to have to write that essay about Charles Dickens," one of the girls chided him, and the boy smiled weakly.

"It was worth a try," he muttered as Adam cleared his throat indicating that it was time for them to get to work.

"OK everyone, today, according to the class outline, we are going to start our study of modern poetry and the era of tragic and romantic poems," he flipped through the book in front of him and when he found the page he needed, he looked up. "Now, please pull your Modern Literature books out and turn to page 236."

As the students did as he said, there were resonating grumbles emerging from the class as they reached a section in the book devoted to 'Shakespeare's sonnets'. "Oh man," one of the girls grumbled as she stared at the page as though she was looking at graffiti on the bathroom wall.

Adam looked around the room; he noticed that Bethany was now staring at him with a strange mix of mistrust, but also empathy shining in her sorrowful brown eyes. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. "Now, you see these sonnets, and your assignment for today is to write a poem, at least 20 lines, and on any subject, but I would suggest that you keep it clean."

"What do we write about?" A girl complained.

"Well, read through some of these sonnets, and maybe an idea will come to you," Adam said. "Now, this doesn't have to rhyme, but the trick is to draw a picture with emotion the way Shakespeare did."

Once he had finished giving the class their assignment, he watched as the class settled in to do the work assigned to them. Much to the angel's luck, the hour passed without incident and soon the bell was ringing for the students to go to their next classes.

As the other kids got up to leave the classroom, Adam glanced up and spoke, his voice loud and a depiction of someone who meant business. “Please leave your poems on my desk as you are leaving.”

Bethany was the last to exit the classroom. She placed her paper on the desk quietly and Adam smiled weakly, “Thank you.”

Her only reply was a terse nod, but before she could leave the room, he looked up and spoke. "Bethany?"

"What, are you going to send me to detention because of what happened this morning?" She asked weakly.

"No, actually, I was going to apologize to you, will you forgive me. I never meant to say something that would hurt your feelings," he said softly.

"It's OK," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm used to it, so yeah, I guess I am." With that, she left the room, her eyes filled with sadness.

Sighing deeply once she was gone, he folded his hands and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Father, how can I help this girl if she won’t speak to me? In fact, how can I help her at all if I can’t even help myself?”

He glanced back to the desk that she had been sitting in, as if looking for the answer to his question there. His eyes widened as he saw something lying discarded on the ground under her seat. He went back for a closer look and saw that it was a large spiral notebook with her name scrawled across the front. Flipping through it, he soon discovered that it was full of poetry that she had written. “Thank you, Father” he whispered as he continued flipping through the notebook, all the while he was staring down at the pages of text.

****

That afternoon after school had been dismissed for the day, Adam left his classroom all the while Bethany's notebook was tucked in his briefcase. The halls were practically empty now, the school day had ended and he had come through without too many scars for having had the experience.

"Adam?" He heard Tess' voice behind him and he turned around to see that she was standing in the hallway. "How did it go, honey?" She asked and the Angel of Death turned caseworker shifted his weight as though he had been caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar and was about to be punished for it.

"OK," he muttered, but looked at her. "Tess, I really don't know how good I am with this, I mean; what can I do, I'm about as useful as a rubber pencil to her. I made a fool of myself in front of her this morning, and getting her to trust me is not going to be easy."

"No, but look at how hard this is for her. She needs to find trust, and whether you believe it or not, she is needing what you've got," Tess said assuredly.

Adam nodded as soon as Tess was gone, and he patted the notebook that Bethany had left in the classroom. Nodding with a new sense of determination, he walked towards the doors leading outside, and within seconds, he had reached the courtyard and knew where it was he had to go. Bethany may not want to see him, but he knew that if there was one thing that this girl needed, that was a friend.

Moments later, he was standing in front a split-level house. He could see that the paint was chipping on one side, but the place was neat and clean. He walked up the steps and reached the front porch some moments later. Sighing deeply, he rang the doorbell.

When the door swung opened, his gaze met a pair of unhappy brown eyes. "Adam? What are you doing here? And how did you find my house?"

"Well, your address is on the inside cover of your notebook, and I'm here because I thought you might like to have it back." As he spoke, he extended the spiral notebook towards her. Once she literally snatched the notebook out of his hands, he continued. "I read your poem, I mean; the one you wrote for the class."

Bethany shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, so?"

"It was very good," he said. "You have a lot of talent, you know."

She looked around where she was standing and then back at him. He seemed sincere enough, and she knew that if her mother were to come back at that moment she would probably get upset with her for being rude and not inviting the teacher inside. Finally, she managed to look up and offer him a somewhat curt nod. "You want to come in?"

Adam smiled. "Sure."

Once inside she closed the door and showed him into the living room. She waved her hand in the direction of the sofa and he went over and sat down. Once Bethany sat down across from him, she shifted her weight and looked over at the fireplace, her shyness preventing her from speaking.

"How long have you been writing poetry, Bethany?" He asked after a few moments had passed and the awkward silence seemed to be swallowing them both up.

"I don't know, a few years, I guess," she said softly. "I used to read poetry aloud when I was little, and I found so much calmness and peace in the stanzas, it was like music, a melody that was put together just for me."

"That's beautiful, sometimes, you even speak in verse," he smiled gently as he looked over at her.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess the others think that poetry is kind of stupid. Maybe it is…"

Adam shook his head. "Look at all the poets that have tried to publish their work in the past, and as a result, they have become world famous through their words."

"Yeah, but did those poets look like a beached whale?" She asked pointedly as she looked down at her body.

Adam took a deep breath before he began to speak, his words filled with kindness. "Bethany, whatever it is you are implying about yourself, that is honestly not what I see…"

"…But you said this morning," her voice trailed off.

"Hey, forget what I said, it was stupid, and wasn't that I believed it," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Bethany, please don't dwell on what I said, it was an innocent question."

"Yeah, but poetry is still stupid, and no one would be interested in reading my poetry. They take one look at me and they head for the hills."

"A true poet looks at images through words, not through appearances. A poet can take something like a rose and give it life of its own through the words he or she chooses. That's what you do, but to define yourself as something that is not beautiful is simply not the truth. You have the spirit of a poet, Bethany, and the human shell is that which protects that spirit. What you look like is not who you are."

"I know, I've heard it all before, and you know even though no one says anything, I know how I look, and I know that no matter what I do, it's not going to change anything," she said softly. "Besides, you're not here to talk about my looks, you asked about the poetry and I told you. I guess the reason I write poetry is because I like it. I mean; whether you believe it or not, the world is really not a very nice place at all."

Adam looked at her, his eyes serene. "You know, I can understand why you see it that way, and I did read all the poems from your class, and there was only one that had the spirit of a poet, and that was yours. Most of what I read could be narrowed down to the following:

Homework stinks like old gym shoes.

I wish my Math teacher would forget its due.

If you take the rhyme out of it, then you will only see two lines that the girls in the back of the room could easily have written on a scrap of paper and passed as a note during the middle of a lesson. Do you see how significant words like yours are?"

Bethany shook her head. "No, I just see a bunch of people not able to look beyond this," she waved her hand around to indicate her body.

After a few moments, Adam managed to get to his feet before taking his leave. Before walking towards the door, he smiled down at her as she got up off the sofa to escort him to the front door. "Don't ever forget, Bethany; what you have been given is a gift. That notebook is full of expressions of God's gifts that you have been given."

Once he was gone, she took a deep breath and stared down at the notebook. There was something different about this teacher. Sure, he was a substitute, but somewhere in his words, she could sense that he genuinely cared, even though she was not ready to share this part of herself with anyone, much less someone who was twice her age and a teacher.

*****

Outside on the sidewalk, Adam glanced skyward; his gray eyes filled with sadness as he realized how little this girl seemed to like herself. Everything was physical and nothing emerged from within, he pondered. Father, how can someone who writes such beautiful poetry have such a low self-image? It seemed unfathomable, but it was true, the key to Bethany discovering the gifts that she possessed would lie with her accepting what she was, not just internally, but externally as well.

He took a deep breath as he continued to walk in the direction of the small studio apartment he was living in for the course of this assignment. As he walked, he could feel someone's presence and he turned around to see that Sam was now walking behind him.

"Sam?" He asked, speaking the other angel's name as though it was a question.

"You're doing fine, Adam," Sam said softly. "Tess asked me to tell you that she will be transferred full time to this assignment tomorrow. The Father has confidence in you, but He thinks that in this case, you probably could use a little more back-up."

"Nothing new there," Adam said sarcastically. "I am walking around this case on pins and needles. Every time I turn around, I have to watch what I say, just so I don't stick my foot in my mouth again. I just don't know if I'm the right angel for this one."

Sam shook his head. "How often have you said this, Adam? How often have you cut yourself down because of how feel about who you are? You want that little girl to love herself and accept that part of herself, but how can she if the angel assigned to her case is incapable of seeing just how special he is?"

The Angel of Death turned caseworker flushed unconsciously. "Touché."

Sam chuckled and looked at Adam, his eyes solemn. "The poetry is the key, Adam, you already know that, and you know that her love of it, and your knowledge of it is going to be the link that binds you. She needs a friend, Adam, and whether you believe it or not, a teacher and a student can become friends."

Adam shrugged his shoulder, but after a few moments, he looked at Sam. "I'll do my best, but only because the Father seems to think I am the right one for this job, though I must admit, I don't connect with that logic."

Sam nodded "When you do that, then you will find more than just a link that binds you to this young lady, but you will discover how significant you are in her life." With that, he disappeared leaving Adam standing on the sidewalk, his eyes now being drawn into a small park.

He walked towards a bench, and when he reached it, he found yet another slip of paper, this one a typed memo that had fallen from the bulletin board some three feet away. He stared down at the black and white writing, and smiled. Maybe this was the answer he had been praying for.

****

“Bethany, can I see you for a minute?” Adam yelled over the ringing of the school bell three days later. He had been waiting for the right moment to speak to her, and this seemed to drop ceremoniously into his lap. “Father, please let this work.” He murmured to himself as the teenager stopped and watched as the rest of the students filed out of the classroom.

Bethany slowly walked towards Adam’s desk, her eyes downcast. As she stepped in front if him she lifted her eyes to meet his, only leaving them there for a second before casting them back to the ground once more.

“I have someone that I would like you to meet,” Adam said after a short silence. “Her name is Tess and she is a really good friend of mine. She works at the community center here in town, has been for a few days now, but she told me about something that I thought would be really interesting for you.”

“I don’t see why anyone in their right mind would actually want to meet me.” Bethany replied sardonically. "I mean…" her voice trailed off and Adam reached over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice interrupting her as more or less a plea.

“Please, Bethany, you and Tess have more in common than you think. Just do me this one favor.” He bent down and scribbled an address on a scrap of paper. “Meet me there tonight at 7 o’ clock.”

She took the paper and glanced down at the address, “The community center?”

“Trust me.” Adam spoke but when she looked down at the paper, something told her that she could. After a few moments, she offered him a somewhat curt nod and quickly exited the room. Adam sighed as he slumped into a chair, beginning to sink into his own thoughts.

“Hello, Angel Boy.” A voice came from behind him and he turned, a smile replacing the contemplative look on his face. He stood and the motherly supervisor pulled him into a hug.

“Hello, Tess.” He spoke once she released him, “I’m so glad you are here.”

“You are doing a wonderful job, Adam.” Tess reassured before Adam was given the chance to question his skills on this case, “That poor child has built a wall of pain and resentment around herself. I’m here to help you pull down the bricks, but this isn’t going to be like Jericho, Baby. We are going to have to pull these bricks down one at a time. It’s a slow process, but we want to make sure that as we pull one down she isn’t putting three more in it’s place.”

Adam nodded, “Her poetry is a gift, Tess, she just doesn’t see it. All she sees are feelings on paper and external appearances. Do you think she will come tonight?”

“I don’t know, Adam. I really don’t know.” Tess replied.

“And if she comes...will she stay?” Adam questioned, his eyes falling to the notice he had gotten from the bulletin board in the park.

“I pray so, Baby.” Tess smiled reassuringly. She placed her hand lightly on his arm, causing him to look up at her, “If not now, then we’ll just have to keep trying. We will eventually get through to her, but it might take some time. I have noticed that she's not the only one who is building up bricks of resentment. Her sister is also doing this to herself and chances are, it's going to take awhile for Bethany to believe that there is something internally good about her.”

Adam nodded. "I guess she and I do have a few things in common, huh?"

Tess nodded as she wrapped her arm around his slumped shoulders. "The Father always assigns the perfect angel to the perfect case."

*****

That evening, Bethany retreated to her room in order to get ready to go out. After a quiet dinner with her mother and sister, the elder of the two girls had retreated to her bedroom and had been playing the latest 'Pet Shop Boys' CD. From her room, Bethany could hear the thundering music blaring as she slipped her notebook inside a satchel and crept out of her bedroom with the intention of making a beeline towards the stairs.

Taking a deep breath once she reached the landing from the staircase, she rushed towards the front door, and slipped outside as she checked to make sure she still had her house-key with her. "Bethany?" her mother, Shannon called out from the kitchen and she came out and smiled at her younger daughter. "Where are you going?"

"One of the teachers at school asked me to come to the community center for a poetry reading," she said. "I figured that it wouldn't be a problem for me to go."

"Don't get back too late, OK?" Shannon said.

"I won't, I'll see you later," Bethany said.

"Bethany, I was thinking about talking to your sister about going shopping tomorrow afternoon," Shannon said. "What do you think? I know that this is probably not your favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon, but I thought maybe you could help us find Karen a prom gown."

"Mom, Karen hates my guts, and I really don't want to go," Bethany said softly.

"No, she doesn't, she's just an older sister, and you know I have an older sister too, and there's always going to be some kind of rivalry between you."

"She calls me a hippo when she mentions me to her friends," Bethany said softly, but seeing the sudden aggravation on her mother's face, she sighed deeply. "Oh forget it, if it makes you happy, Mom, I'll go with you, just don't tell Karen I told you what she says, it will only make things worse."

Shannon looked at her younger daughter, her eyes stern. "I have never heard your sister say anything bad about you, Bethany, but if she says anything around me, I can't be responsible for saying something to her about it."

Bethany nodded and turned back towards the door. "I've gotta go, I'll be back by nine, OK?"

"OK, have fun."

Once Bethany had stepped outside, the door closed, and she released a pent-up sigh all the while, grateful that her mother did not give her the twenty-question drill about her sister or what would happen at the community center. She only knew that this probably had something to do with poetry, but why specifically she was going, remained a mystery.

As she walked towards the center, she could not help but ponder why it was she had even agreed to meet Adam in the first place. If truth were known, the more she thought about actually having a place to go on a Friday night, the more appealing all of this was. Besides that, she probably had better things to do than to sit at home and try to drown out the sounds of 'West End Girls' blaring through the bathroom that connected her and her sister's bedrooms. Of course, she would never tell anyone this, but it was much more appealing to actually get out of the house and meet someone than to deal with this awkward alternative.

"Hey, Bethany," someone called out thus breaking her out of her reverie. After a few seconds of hearing her name in the distance, she turned around to see one of the girls from her class, Miranda Hudson coming towards her.

Appearance-wise, Miranda was less than five feet tall, and what some people would call a 'bean pole'. She was the type of person who could eat thirty hot-fudge sundaes and not gain a pound. For this reason, Bethany envied Miranda, but the other girl had her own hang-ups. Aside from being exceedingly thin, Miranda came from, what many kids dubbed as, the wrong side of the tracks. She was a very smart girl, ranked at the top of her class, but was also two grades behind Bethany. Where she lacked in what people would call attractiveness, she made up for in attitude.

Miranda wore hand-me-down clothes and had what some would call coke-bottle glasses. On top of that, whenever she smiled, one could see more silver in her mouth than in the US Mint.

Looks aside, if Bethany really had any such thing as a best friend, she would have considered Miranda to be that. Even though both girls were unmercifully teased, Miranda had a very strong personality, and could somehow handle Karen's arrogance without any major problems because she would always shoot back whatever the senior girl shot her way with a large dosage of attitude.

"What are you doing out here?" Bethany finally asked.

"I've been babysitting for Mr. and Mrs. Bowles down the street, and was just heading home," Miranda said. "Ricky is just the cutest little boy. He learned how to say 'potato' and it sounds like he's been eating them when he says the word. Little kids are so cute."

Bethany shrugged her shoulders.

"What about you, you look like you've been through the grinder again with Miss Congeniality." Miranda smirked as she made mention of Bethany's sister. It was rare for the freshman girl to call people she did not like by their given names. Bethany viewed the nickname for her sister to be the biggest of all contradictions, but that was probably why the nickname seemed to stick.

"Yeah, you should have heard what she said to me yesterday," Bethany's unhappy voice rose two octaves as she did a false vibrato-like imitation of her older sister. "'It's no wonder you look like a beached whale, Bethany'."

Miranda shook her head. "You know, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but at least you don't look like the poster child for 'Anorexics Anonymous' like she does. I mean, I have seen your sister at school during lunch time as she's cutting up that salad in the cafeteria and all I can say is, paranoia like hers is downright scary."

As they got closer to the community center and Miranda had reached the corner where they would part company, she looked at Bethany and shrugged her shoulders as Bethany began to speak again, her voice once again sounding normal. "I guess I'll see you later, Miranda."

The other girl nodded, but she could see that her friend's heart was not into anything, in fact, she looked completely miserable because of what had happened with regard to her sister making unkind remarks about her weight.

"Listen, don't let her get you down, you know how older siblings can be," Miranda said trying to offer her friend an encouraging nod.

Bethany nodded. "Yeah, that's what my mom said too, but it's still a pain. Anyway, I guess I'd better get going, I told Adam I would be there at seven."

"Adam?" Miranda's eyes suddenly shone as though someone had awarded her top prize in a beauty contest. "Who's Adam?" She crooned.

"He's nobody important, just the English sub," Bethany offered. "Besides, I don't even know why I'm here in the first place. He just made the suggestion and I figured coming here was better than the other alternative."

"I take it that the other alternative is listening to your sister swoon over the 'Pet Shop Boys'?" Miranda asked wrinkling her nose.

Bethany nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "I'll see you Monday in the commons before school starts."

Miranda nodded and left. "See ya."

Once Bethany was alone, she checked her watch before walking slowly across the street in the direction of the community center.

*****

Adam was standing in the large open room waiting with Tess when Bethany came into the center some ten minutes later. He had been sitting there consulting his watch almost constantly and Tess had started to get annoyed with his endless fidgeting. "She'll be here," the wise angel kept insisting, but Adam was none too convinced, he was of the mindset that he had utterly failed with Bethany and there was no way this girl would ever start to trust him.

As the two angels watched her coming through the door, Tess nudged him and he slowly stood up and started to walk towards the door she had entered, a smile of relief shadowing his handsome face, his gray eyes filled with the obvious relief he had of seeing her showing up there.

Once she had made eye contact with him, he watched as she walked slowly over towards him. "Hi," she said softly once she reached where he was standing, but he immediately noticed that a deflated balloon had more energy.

"Hi, Bethany," Adam smiled gently at her, but when she did not return the gesture, his cheerful look disappeared. "Is something wrong?" He asked, concern overtaking all the other emotions he had.

"No," she said, and he immediately could almost instantly tell that she was once again starting to build that wall up around herself. She seemed to only put her emotions into her poetry, but all the pain she carried was something that he knew she was not about to tell him about.

"Well, then, why don't we go over and say 'hi' to Tess?" He offered and when she didn't respond verbally he continued. "She's waiting in the main room for us. Did you bring some of your poetry with you?"

"I thought I was coming here to just meet her, not to show my work," she looked at him, her eyes shadowed in mistrust.

Adam took a deep breath, but nodded. "Yes, you're right, Bethany, I just thought…"

"…Well, you thought wrong. I knew that coming here tonight was a big mistake," she began. "Everybody just seems to want something from me. You want to see my poetry, but probably only so you can humiliate me in class…" Her voice trailed off as she realized what she had just said to him.

As the realization overwhelmed her, she took a deep staggering breath. He was a teacher, and she would probably catch even more grief from him for having spoken as disrespectfully as she had just done.

She turned away with the intention of walking away, but he had reached out and touched her shoulder, thus causing her to stop and turn around. "Bethany, I'm sorry," he offered softly once she was looking at him. As soon as the words emerged, he could see that she had somehow found the courage to do so.

"You're sorry?" She asked weakly.

He nodded. "Yes, I am. I know and I promise that if you were to show me your poetry, I won't show it to anyone. I may be a teacher, but I will not betray your trust. Is there something that I can do that will prove it to you?"

She thought about his words for a few moments, and after it seemed as though an eternity had passed them by, she offered them a tentative nod. "You won't tell anyone about the poems?" She asked as they started to walk in the direction of where Tess was waiting.

"I won't, Bethany. I know this sounds really weird for me to say so, but I am not like most teachers you know," he said softly. "I am actually not really a teacher."

"You're not?" Bethany looked at him. "What do you do then?"

"Well…" Adam hedged and suddenly he was able to provide her an adequate answer. "Before I came here, I was working in the area of psychology."

"I don't need a shrink," Bethany said sharply.

"I know, but you asked, besides, I don't do that now, I teach English," he said shrugging his shoulders.

Bethany nodded numbly, her eyes filled with the almost typical sadness. "You're not going to try to get me to talk about my feelings, or about why I hate myself."

"I will only talk to you about those things if you want to talk about them," he said as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I want to be your friend, and that may seem strange to you, somehow I relate to you, I understand you, probably better than you realize."

"How can you? You're nice looking and you're friendly. I mean; you're all those things that I'm not," she said softly.

"Why do you believe that you're not pretty or nice?" Adam asked.

"Look at me," Bethany could feel the tears brimming from beneath her eyes. "I'm disgusting…I'm…"

"A child of God," Adam said gently.

"God, you know we're not supposed to talk about Him in school," Bethany said.

"We're not in school, we are friends who have met here at a community center to talk. Bethany, I don't think that any rules and regulations from any school board can stop two friends from talking about God," Adam said gently.

Bethany looked at him. "I don't know if I believe in God."

Adam smiled gently. "The question is, do you want to?"

Bethany shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, besides, weren't we supposed to meet someone here tonight?"

Adam nodded as they made their way over to where Tess was seated and waiting for them. "Hello babies," Tess said once they had reached her.

"Hi Tess, this is Bethany Richardson, she's one of my students at the school," Adam explained.

"Hello there, baby," Tess said smiling as Bethany nodded. "I suppose you are wondering why you're here."

Bethany nodded, "yeah, I guess the thought did cross my mind."

"Well, the community center is hosting a poetry contest and we thought maybe you might be interested in signing up," Tess said and watched as Bethany turned and looked at Adam all the while shaking her head and backing away from them

"Not on your life," she practically shouted. "You promised."

Adam was somewhat taken aback by her bluntness, but his eyes filled with sadness as she walked away from them and when she did not turn back to face them, Adam looked at Tess. "Now what?"

"Go after her, Angel Boy," Tess said sadly. "I don't think that there's a lot that I can do to rectify things here."

Adam nodded and started to follow the young girl towards the front door.

*****

Bethany was running down the street some moments later, her eyes filling with tears as she made her way back in the direction of the house where she lived.

As she made her way, her head was down and her hair hung loosely down over her shoulders, thus blocking her face from the rest of the world. Moments later, she stopped only to see that her sister's boyfriend, Billy was standing on the curb talking to some of the members of the football team.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't God's gift to the mass production of lard products," Billy sneered and looked at her, his eyes gleaming as the four or five boys standing next to him began to chortle.

Bethany passed them all the while hoping to get away without being tripped or tormented by them. A couple of them reached out and grabbed her arm, thus jerking her around in order to face them.

She could tell that they had been smoking cigarettes, as their breath reeked of nicotine, and even in the dim streetlights, she could see that their teeth were yellow. She cringed when she felt their hands gripping her upper arm near her shoulder, but she simply jerked her arm out of their grip and looked at them with hostility in her eyes.

"Leave me alone, Billy," she said evenly, "or I'll mesh you to a pulp right here, right now."

"You and what army?" One of the other boys asked. "We could mesh you to a pulp, and you know it, you fat cow."

Bethany could feel the anger building in her, but instead of saying anything, she managed to jerk her arm out of their grip and started to walk away from them, but as she moved away from them, a sense of fear suddenly engulfed her, and she tried to swallow the golf-ball sized lump that had formed in her throat.

When Billy didn't react and instead reached out and grabbed her long brown hair, she was forced to a complete stop as he jerked her back towards him. "Now, what was that?" He sneered as he jerked her head back, and she was forced to look up at him, her eyes filled with fear.

"Let me go," she said between clenched teeth as she tried to get away from the boy and his friends, but when they wouldn't let her go, she could feel the tears of fright now brimming from beneath her eyes.

"What do you say?" Billy asked as her notebook slipped from her fingers and some of the pages fell out of it.

"Let her go, Billy, and I mean, right now." A stern voice emerged and Bethany immediately recognized the deep baritone; it was Adam, but at that moment, she did not even know if she was happy to see him, or utterly humiliated with having him find her in this situation.

When the boys seemed to refuse to respond, Adam intervened and grabbed the fist of the boy that was clenching Bethany's hair. "Let her go," the angel said evenly, his voice emerging completely level and eventually the boy loosened his grip and Bethany sank to the ground, her eyes filling with tears as the boys eventually lost their courage and left the two of them alone.

For her part, Bethany stared down at the ground as Adam began to collect the papers and then he came over and got down on the ground next to her. "Are you OK?"

Bethany nodded, the tears still in her eyes, but no words emerged.

Instead Adam spoke. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Wordlessly, she got up all the ground and once Adam handed her the notebook, they walked in the direction of her house, neither of them speaking for some time, both of their thoughts seemed to be centered on what had just happened.

When she didn't speak, he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Bethany," he said softly, but she did not respond, instead she jerked her arm away from his touch. "Please, I want to help you, but I can't if you won't talk to me."

Bethany stopped and turned to look at him. "I wish I was dead."

"No, you don't, you just wish for the pain to stop. You wish that there was someone who understood how hurt you are," Adam said gently. "Maybe, for a friend who understands?"

She looked down at the ground but after a few moments, she offered him an unhappy nod. "Everybody hates me, Adam. That was my sister's boyfriend, and my older sister is always telling me things like I'm ugly and degrading. The only thing that is even beautiful about me is the poetry, but that's just a bunch of stupid words."

"First of all, you're not ugly, Bethany. Nothing that God creates is ugly."

"Then I am the broken mold," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a fat poet who writes poetry and stories, but they're all stupid."

"No, it's not just words, Bethany, it's your gift, a special thing that sets you apart from all the others. Maybe what you should do is share it, share that gift with those around you, and let them into your world, and let them see the beauty that is in you."

Bethany shook her head angrily. "I'm too afraid to share it, I'm afraid that it will just give them more reasons to say things that will hurt me, or more reasons to tease me. 'The Whale with a tale'. I can hear it now."

Adam wrapped her gently in his arms all the while shaking his head in negation. "You know something?" She shook her head and he continued. "Sometimes when you feel the most lost that a person can feel; there is something that happens that helps them find their peace. Maybe you should find that peace in your words, not in what other people say or think. The important thing is that God knows you, Bethany, He knows your pain, that's why He speaks into your spirit these words, because He wants you to find the joy in living that you have."

"God wants me to go out an humiliate myself?" She asked brokenly. "I never took you for the preaching kind." She started to walk away from him, but he reached out and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not here to preach to you, Bethany, I'm here to help you," he said gently.

Bethany shook her head. "You can't help me. You can't make them stop teasing me. You can't force my stupid sister to stop saying things that hurt me. If you could then I would believe you, but I can't."

She broke free from him and ran down the street in the direction of her house leaving Adam staring after her. Seconds later, Tess appeared beside him. "I blew it, Tess."

The older angel shook her head. "No you didn't, Angel Boy, you just tried to reach a person who wasn't quite ready to listen to you."

"What should I do now?" He asked.

"Wait and see," Tess said gently as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

*****

Bethany reached her house by this time, the lights were still on and she wondered what was going to happen when she went inside. She knew that she couldn't very well tell her mother that Karen's boyfriend was giving her grief again. She sat down on the porch and stared down at her hands.

Seconds later the door opened and Karen stepped outside, the older girl's eyes filled with scorn as she regarded her sister. "What are you doing here?" She asked. "I thought you went to a poetry reading."

Bethany looked at her sister. "What do you care about where I was? At least I wasn't in your hair."

Karen looked at her sister, her blue eyes narrowing. "Well, excuse me for asking."

Bethany shrugged her shoulders. "I came back early," she offered her voice softening somewhat.

"Why?" Karen asked.

"That's none of your business," Bethany snapped.

"Look, I'm just trying to be nice here," Karen said angrily. "It's not my fault that you are trying to shut me out. Besides you're not the only one with problems you know."

"Look, you have spent the last four years belittling me and talking down at me, and now your stupid boyfriend has been giving me grief, well, just because Mom wants us to act like best friends doesn't mean that I want to," Bethany said her eyes regarding her sister angrily. "You tell those bozos all those stories about me and then they come along and harass me, well I don't need it."

Karen looked at her sister defensively, her eyes clouding over. "I didn't do this, they did," she shouted.

"Who cares, you're the one that goes around egging them on by calling me a 'fat cow' and stuff, and then they figure that I'm an open target, well Karen, I could care less about what your excuses are, because you're just going to sit there and make excuses for your creep-o boyfriend's bad sense of humor."

Without saying a word, Bethany got up and went into the house, thus slamming the door behind her, thus leaving Karen sitting on the porch, her eyes filled with sadness. Seconds later, someone came over to where she was sitting and she looked up and smiled weakly.

"Hi Monica," she said softly as a tall woman with auburn colored hair walked over to the porch where she was sitting. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by to see how you were doing," Monica said smiling. "You left the practice so quickly that I was afraid that I might have said something wrong."

"No, I'm just sensitive about things, I guess," Karen said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Monica asked as she climbed up on the porch. "Maybe we can go down the road to the deli and have a sandwich and talk about it."

Karen shook her head. "I can't, I have to watch my weight, and I don't want to end up like Bethany."

"You know, just because your sister may have issues of weight, doesn't mean that you will," Monica began shaking her head.

"Yes, and the only thing I can do is try to prevent that from happening," Karen said. "I am not just in the cheerleaders, but I also have a social life to contend with."

Monica shook her head as she looked up and could see that another angel was nearby, this one Andrew, her friend as well as another Angel of Death. The pretty auburn headed angel shook her head. "A social life is important for a young girl, that much is a given, but who is telling you to keep your weight down?"

"Billy," Karen said softly. "He has a vendetta against fat people, and I know he teases Bethany."

"You know he does this but you don't do anything about it?" Monica asked somewhat skeptically.

"He's the captain of the football team, and if I said or did anything, then I would be socially finished."

"Karen, tell me this, tell me what is happening to you, you barely eat, and when I see you at school, you look as though you could stare holes into solid concrete? You know that I was hired to help your cheerleading squad, but I can't help you if you won't let me," Monica said softly.

"Then just go away," Karen said icily. "I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do, you are starting to show the signs of Anorexia Nervosa, and if you continue this way, you will not be able to continue as a cheerleader at this school," Monica said softly.

"What difference does that make, the school year will be finished in two months, then I will graduate and go to college," Karen said smugly.

Monica took a deep breath and she looked back over at Andrew, who was still standing on the sidewalk in front of the house. Eventually, she could do nothing except shrug her shoulders and walk back down the walk in his direction. If Karen won't listen, then what can I do? The questions seemed to wrack havoc on her conscious and when she reached Andrew, the two angels watched as Karen got up and walked into the house.

"Andrew, what are you doing here?" Monica asked.

"Tess said that you and Adam could use some backup, but Monica I'm here somewhat officially," Andrew said softly. "There is a lot riding on whether or not you will reach Karen."

As he spoke, a young girl was walking by and she stopped and turned around to hear their words. "She's got Anorexia, doesn't she?" The girl spoke looking from Monica to Andrew.

Monica nodded. "How do you know all of this?"

"Bethany is my best friend and I've been watching things happen at school. I saw you a few days ago, you were watching Karen too, and I know what you were thinking because just about everyone who knows her, knows that she's in trouble," the girl said as she smiled up at Andrew. "My name is Miranda, by the way, and I've seen Karen in the cafeteria, how she would pick over her salad. I was mad at her because she would belittle Bethany, but now I'm getting a little bit worried about Karen, yet I know that this isn't going over well for Bethany either. I mean; they both seem to carry the same burdens, but neither of them seem to realize that they are connected by this."

Andrew looked at the teenager. "You really pay attention to detail, don't you?"

"I work on the newspaper staff, it's my job to watch and listen to everything that is going on around me," she smiled slyly at him, but she looked at Monica. "If you want to help Karen get over this anorexia thing, maybe the person you should be talking to is her boyfriend Billy. He's got a brain the size of a bean, but he's the one that has been pressuring Karen about her weight. He's the one that is pushing her closer and closer to the edge."

Monica smiled weakly, but she looked at Andrew, who nodded. "OK, that sounds like a plan."

Miranda started to walk in the direction of the apartment building where she lived and Andrew parted company with Monica. "I'll see that she gets home safely," he said and Monica nodded as she walked back in the direction of the house where Bethany and Karen lived.

Once she was gone, Miranda looked up at Andrew. "Haven't I seen you some place before."

"Maybe," he hedged.

"No, I don't mean a pick-up line, I mean, you look familiar, have you been here in town before? Maybe I saw you at my uncle's diner or up at the church."

Andrew shook his head. "I just got into town a few days ago."

"Oh well, OK but what's your name?"

"Andrew," came the response.

"That's a pretty name, at least it's better than Miranda," she smirked. "I just took a class in political science, and you can bet that I have heard the 'Miranda Rights' spewed by the boys in the back of the room. They are such goobers."

Andrew chuckled. "Where does the name come from?"

"My grandma was Miranda Stevenson Johnson such and such. She was always so formal; she would drink tea with her pinkie extended out from the cup. I used to adore her, and last year she died, but I always kept her scrapbook with articles and clippings. Most of them were pie recipes, but every once in a while I would find an article about JFK or D-Day or something of historical significance, and would realize that I was actually holding a part of history in my hand," Miranda said smiling weakly. "Why am I telling you all this?"

"I-I don't know," Andrew smiled, but his eyes were shining brightly as he spoke to her. "I think this would actually make for an interesting article for your newspaper."

Miranda shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it would. You know, I think you're on to something here. Do you want to see the articles?"

Andrew nodded, "sounds great, but something confuses me, you write for a paper, but yet, why didn't you think of this before?"

"I don't know really, I guess I always thought Bethany was the writer. She could draw pictures with words, and poetry. I always wondered why it was that she wouldn't share her work with other people, because she has the ability to go far with her writing, but the problem is, Karen is sitting center stage, and Bethany feels a little bit out of the loop."

"More observations?" Andrew asked.

"It's obvious," she said as they reached the steps to the apartment building and she unlocked the door. "My parents aren't home, so that means you'd better behave yourself. I've been taking Judo since I was 5 and I am about to test out my black belt."

Andrew smiled. "Yes ma'am."

"Anyway, as I was saying, I've been at their house," Miranda said softly as they went up the stairs and she unlocked the front door to the apartment where she lived with her parents. "I remember Bethany's last birthday party where Karen somehow managed to hog the spotlight. Bethany, as usual, retreated back into herself and read a book she had been given. I couldn't get her to talk about herself for anything. Anyway, it's terrible what's happened."

Andrew nodded as they came into the room and she motioned for him to sit down. She left the room for a few moments only to return with a large cardboard box.

"Anyway, this is the stuff, I haven't really gone through all of it, but there are some really intense articles here," Miranda said as they started going through the clippings.

"Miranda, can I ask you something?" Andrew asked as they dug through the articles.

"Sure," she whispered.

"Why do you tell me about all of this?"

"I don't know, maybe because I think you're really intent on helping Karen," Miranda said all the while shrugging her shoulders. "You're going to think I'm crazy, well crazier than usual, but I believe that sometimes people get more help from a stranger than from a friend. Karen doesn't have a lot of really good friends, but she needs them now." As she spoke, she pulled a newspaper article out of the stack. "I saw this article a few days ago, and it scared me."

Andrew accepted it and looked down at it and nodded, something in this article made a lot more sense to him. "You think Karen is like the person this article was written about?"

"I know it seems stupid, but yeah. Andrew, I made jokes about it, but after I found it, it scared me. Then I overheard you and your friend talking and I knew that I needed to tell someone. Maybe someone not directly involved because sometimes, a stranger has a way of coming into one's life and turning things upside down for no reason at all, but that somehow has a way of setting things right again."

Andrew reached over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We may help both girls, but Miranda, something tells me, that you and your grandmother's archive will be a part of it. This portfolio may be what decides what will happen to Karen Richardson."

The teenager nodded as he stood up. "Andrew?"

"Yes, Miranda?"

"I think that you're cool. Do you want to take the article, maybe it will help?"

"Yes, thank you," he responded as he left and once the door closed behind him, Miranda smiled impishly.

"No problem," she whispered as she finished collecting the articles and returned them to the cardboard box.

*****

At the same moment, Bethany was sitting in her room, her eyes filled with sadness. She had been contemplating suicide for weeks now, but the events of the evening had left her feeling more sad and confused than anything. She looked around the room, and then after a few moments, she managed to look in the mirror that was on one side of the room. The words, 'fat' and 'ugly' seemed to resonate in her mind and eventually, she shook her head.

From her room, she could still hear the music of her sister playing and finally not able to take any more of this, she went over to the window and raised it up and climbed out the opening and took off across the yard without even stopping to close it.

The darkness of the neighborhood gave her the creeps, but she walked slowly towards the small wooded place that separated the house where she lived from the street. When she reached a tree house, she climbed the wooden pieces of wood that were hammered against it, but when she got to the top, she failed to notice that one of the pieces of wood was loose and with her weight against it, the step gave way and she fell screaming to the ground, her ankle twisting in the process and she realized that she was unable to move.

"Help me, someone," she whispered under her breath, but a feeling of dizziness overwhelmed her and she tried to stand up, this action proving unsuccessful.

As she ran her hand over her face, she could feel the sticky moistness of blood that was streaked across her face. At that instant, a bolt of pain shot up her spine and she could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes.

"Oh God, please help me," she began to cry when she felt the hot tears streaming from beneath her eyes.

"Bethany?" A voice called out her name as her words faded and her crying started. After a few moments, she managed to look up to see that Adam was present and he was walking towards her.

"H-how did you know I was here?" She whispered weakly when she could feel that he was now crouched down beside her.

"It would take me too long to explain how I knew; are you OK?" He asked gently.

"My ankle is twisted and I'm scared," she whispered, her voice emerging barely above a whisper, but she suddenly felt his hand brushing against her cheek.

"Shhh, I know you're afraid, that's why I'm here, Bethany," Adam said gently as he recognized that she was injured and he touched her cheek and she flinched. "You have nothing to be afraid of."

"But, it's getting colder, and…" Bethany objected, her voice getting a little bit more hysterical.

"Bethany, you're not alone now," Adam said, his voice emerging somewhat stern, but she looked up and could still see that he was towering over her. "Listen to me, sweetheart, it is imperative that you remain calm, and the more you worry or get uptight about all this, then the more serious your injuries will get. Now, try to relax a little, OK?"

"You won't leave me, will you?" She asked weakly.

"No, Bethany, I have no intention of leaving, that's why I'm here," Adam said gently as he began to glow. He regarded the teenager, his eyes serene as he crouched down next to where she was lying. Once he was sitting on the ground next to her, he brushed his fingertips gently against her cheek.

"W-what are you?" She cried out when she saw the light literally emanating from him. Instead of feeling calmer about this, she tried to back away from him.

"Don't be afraid, Bethany, I'm an angel," Adam said gently.

"A-an angel?" Bethany looked up at him, but her tears blurred her vision.

"Yes," he said as he wiped her tears away. "God wants you to know that He will always be there for you when you need Him, but you have to let Him in, sweetheart. It's always going to be your choice to do so."

"Y-you're really an angel?" She whispered. "B-but how?"

"How is not important, what is, is that you not lose your faith in all of this. No matter how hard your life will get, Bethany, and no matter what happens, you won't be alone."

"Why are you telling me this?" Bethany started to loose her emotions again. "Is something going to happen, maybe to my sister?"

"Shhh," Adam cajoled her gently. "I don't know what will happen with your sister any more than you do, but I can tell you that the Father is with you both, and He will help you both, but only if you ask Him."

"I never thought I would be special enough to have an angel come see me," Bethany said softly, her eyes instead of looking at him; they were looking down at the ground.

"You are special, because the Father made you, Bethany," Adam said gently. "Your worth is not defined by physical beauty, it's defined by what's inside. You know, one day when you go to heaven, you won't take the physical with you, your body is that which protects your soul, and that is who you are and that is where the value lies."

"Tell that to the people who call me a pig, or a whale," she whispered. "Tell that to my sister who can't stand the sight of me and who tells me that I am ugly and an embarrassment to her." She looked at him as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "Adam, I want to believe you, but it's so hard to."

He smiled gently. "I know; it's sometimes hard for me to believe that I'm special."

"You?" She looked up at him.

"Mm-hum," he nodded, but watched as she tried to crawl closer to him. When she couldn't, he slid over next to where she was lying. "Sometimes, it's hard to find one's place in the world. People are looking for something special and can't always find it, but that doesn't mean that it isn't there. Sometimes, people look at the external beauty and not at what is in the heart the person with whom they are speaking. But, sometimes, the Father gives His children a most wonderful gift, like the one He gave to you."

"A gift?" Bethany looked up at him.

"Yes, you are a writer, Bethany, a person who can take a bunch of words and draw a picture with them. You were given this gift to share, not to harbor the pain away. The Father sent you an angel because He hopes that you will discover the truth about your gift."

Bethany shook her head. "I'm scared to. I know they'll all laugh at me."

"Are you sure?" Adam asked. "Bethany, the words of a poet are mere reflections of God's unconditional love that He has for His children. God doesn’t care how you physically appear, He cares about the person that you are in here."

"I'm still scared," she whispered.

When he heard those words, he wrapped her comfortingly in his arms. "Sometimes you just have to try and overcome that fear, Bethany. People are not always going to be judged by their looks, there will come a day when people will look deeper and see you as God sees you, and as I see you."

"As you see me?" She whispered.

Resting his hand over his chest, he tapped his heart. "In here, it's what's in here, Bethany. That's what I see."

"You really wanted to be my friend, b-but…you're an angel. Why would you want to be my friend?" She looked down at her lap, the tears now streaming from beneath her sorrow filled eyes.

"Because I like you and because I relate to you probably in ways you don't even realize," Adam said softly.

"How?"

"Well, sometimes I'm not always understood," Adam said softly as he brushed a lock of her hair out from in front of her face. "It's hard to explain, but do you know what?"

She shook her head.

"God's timing is perfect, and right now it is time for you to know just how special you are to Him," he smiled gently at her as he felt her reaching her hand over in the direction of where his voice had originated. "You want to know something?"

Bethany looked up at him. "What?"

"You're not alone," Adam whispered, "and no matter where you are, God is right there with you, and He will make sure that you find the peace and the love that He wants to give you."

Bethany nodded. "You know, I was thinking about submitting a poem with my friend Miranda's name on it. I guess I thought that if I did, then people would see her name on it and like it more."

"And now?"

"I don't know, I mean; I'm still scared of sharing that part of myself with them. My sister puts down my poetry, she puts down everything about me," she shook her head.

"Maybe she's unhappy and jealous because you have this gift that she doesn't," Adam said softly. "You know, sometimes people do respond to others in that way. They wish with all their heart that they had what another person has, and when they don't get it, they respond in anger and bitterness because they want it."

"You think she wants something I have?"

"Yes, I do, maybe she wants the joy you find in writing," Adam said softly as he glanced skyward and nodded. "Come with me, you're out of danger now, and I need to get you to a doctor."

"Will you stay with me until this is over or are you going to leave like everyone else has done?" She asked.

"He'll be here, baby," Tess' voice emerged and the teenager looked up and could see that the supervisor was now standing next to where they were on the ground. "Adam is going to stay and he's going to be right here with you, aren't you, Angel Boy?"

Adam nodded as he picked the young girl up in his arms. In response to this, she rested her head wearily against his chest, but after a few moments, she glanced up and looked into the eyes of the Angel of Death. "You're very nice," she said softly.

Adam smiled and looked at Tess. Something in the teenager's words reminded him profoundly as to why he was sent to help her. "Get her to the doctor, Adam. Monica and Andrew are here now, and they are on this case, too."

"Case?"

Tess smiled gently. "You're surrounded by angels, baby."

Bethany nodded weakly. "He must think we're utterly hopeless," she whispered after a few seconds had passed. "I'm almost sorry that tomorrow's Saturday…" her voice drifted off.

"Why is that?" Adam asked gently.

"I don't know, I guess I thought it would be fun if we could hang out together. Miranda is always gone on the weekends, she works downtown, and my sister is gone, and well…" Her voice trailed off once again.

"…You're lonely," Adam finished for her.

"Yeah," she said sadly.

The angel looked at Tess and as soon as the supervisor nodded, he smiled down at the girl in his arms. "Then it's a good thing that I'm still here then we can as you said, hang out."

"You really would want to be around me?"

Adam nodded. "Why does that surprise you?"

Bethany shrugged her shoulders without speaking, but Adam and Tess could both see the insecurity that shadowed the girl's tearstained face.

*****

It was late when Bethany and Adam arrived back at the house, and Bethany stood at the door and looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness. "I really hate this," she whispered as she looked down at the white gauze that covered her ankle.

"You take care of yourself," Adam said gently. "The doctor said that you should only take the pain medication when you need it and you should stay off that ankle for a few days."

"I know," she said softly. "My mom's going to kill me, you know?"

"Why do you say that?" Adam asked.

"She's been paying all the attention to my sister, Karen, and she's probably going to think that this is my way of getting some of the attention for myself," Bethany said softly.

"I think I understand how you are feeling, but this is probably happening because your sister's anorexic, Bethany," Adam said gently. "Right now, she really needs some attention."

Bethany looked at him and shook her head as though in denial. "I thought Miranda was just telling me wild stories about it. I mean; she doesn't like Karen all that much anyway."

Adam helped her to sit down on one of the chairs and had seated himself as well, he looked at her once she was comfortable, his eyes completely earnest. "Bethany, your sister is very sick, and if she doesn't get help soon, well…" his voice trailed and he looked at her.

"You mean when Karen tried to talk to me, she really was crying for help and I was just being selfish?" Bethany asked bitterly. "Is that what you're saying?"

Adam shook his head. "I know that you're not being selfish, Bethany, I just know that Karen is hurting, but she has angels with her too, and one of them tried to talk to her, but that didn't seem to help very much."

Bethany looked at him. "So that's why there are angels around, none of them care about me, they are only here for her. Just like always."

"No," Adam put his hand on her shoulder but she jerked it away. "Bethany, please, I am your friend, and I'm here for you, and you alone. But, even though I want to help you, your sister needs your help too. I promise you that I was only sent here for you and not her. But, she could really use your help in getting through all of this." He reached over and touched the side of her tearstained face. "You have felt as though you were in the shadow of your older sister for years, and the poetry is the one thing you have that sets you apart from her. But, sweetheart, God didn't create her to be better or prettier than you, He created two unique and beautiful individuals. Two people who stand out in their own way, but that doesn't mean that you are less significant than Karen. Bethany, you are just as special as she is and in the Father's eyes, that is where the beauty and wonder lies."

Bethany could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes, but she looked at him. "No one has ever said that kind of stuff to me before."

"It's only the truth, Bethany, what I am telling you is the truth, and it is what God wants you to know. It will be your choice about whether to help your sister or not."

"Y-you mean, I can help her?" She asked softly. "But how?"

Adam smiled gently at her. "Talk to her, tell her about the contest, and see what she says. If she puts it down, then it may be her own jealousy talking and not the caring person that she is."

"I'm afraid to, she has always put me down," Bethany whispered, but as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes, she had no idea how she would ever be able to do anything to help her sister when she was not so sure there was actually anything an angel could even do to help her.

Adam seemed to be reading her thoughts because he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Bethany, what's the matter?"

"I just feel so forgotten," she whispered.

"You're not, you just feel this way because of the hard time you are having with your sister's friends, but no one, not God, nor His angels have forgotten you."

"Adam, if you're really here for me, does that mean that I will see you again like Tess said?" The teenager eventually asked.

"Of course you will," Adam smiled, nodded, and offered her his hand.

"You know, I never really was very good about telling people how I felt, I always wrote it down," she whispered as she looked up at him as she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess what I want to say is that I'm really glad that I met you, you're a really special friend."

Adam smiled and nodded gratefully. "I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

"I have to go shopping with my mom and sister," she said softly. "I don't know when I will be able to meet you. I wish I could, but it's hard."

The angel reached out and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You will, my friend, keep the faith."

Once she nodded, he held the door open for her and she managed to slowly walk back inside. He closed the door behind her and as he heard the locks clicking, Adam looked up and could see that Andrew was walking in his direction. When he saw his friend, he came down the three steps that separated the porch from the sidewalk and walked over to his friend and greeted him cordially.

"Hi Andrew."

"Hey Adam, what are you doing here?" Andrew asked.

"My assignment is Bethany Richardson," Adam explained softly, his voice filled with sadness. "And you?"

"Mine is her sister Karen, in fact I have a funny feeling that my assignment's fate may have a lot to do with what happens with your assignment," Andrew rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and looked at his friend. "Can you tell me what's happening with Bethany, maybe it will help me reach Karen?"

"Bethany is a typical teenage girl with a not so typical talent, she's a wonderful poet, Andrew, but she has never been encouraged to pursue it and it seems as though she feels rejected by her sister as well as Karen's circle of friends," Adam explained. "Tonight, I had to defend her from Karen's boyfriend, Billy."

"Yes, I know Billy pretty well, I met him a few times," Andrew said sadly as he shook his head and looked at his friend. "It wasn't Karen who rejected Bethany, Adam, it was the boy that Karen dates. The problem is, Karen is under so much pressure, and because she is on the cheerleading squad, she thinks that she will never make anything of her life unless she stays thin. This sounds complicating, but Bethany isn't the only one here who needs an angel. It's starting to look as though a bunch of the young people in this town are in need of some divine intervention."

Adam nodded as he looked towards the window to Bethany's room. "I told Bethany about Karen's anorexia problem, but I don't know how much she can do to help her sister, there's so much imbedded resentment with her."

"Well, if she doesn't do something, Adam, part of my assignment will be to take Karen Home," Andrew said softly.

"That bad?" Adam asked.

Andrew nodded. "We're getting very close to the breaking point with this disease and we are quickly running out of time." He consulted his pocket watch and shook his head. "I've got to go, Karen needs me."

With that, he disappeared leaving Adam alone and with even more questions permeating his conscious.

*****

Inside the house, Karen was lying in her room, and she was staring at the ceiling. She reached up and covered her face with her hands, but she was unable to stop the room from spinning. Weakly, she crawled out of bed and turned on the overhead light.

"Oh God," she whispered as she sank to the floor her body overcome with weakness. As she sat on the carpeted floor, she could feel the world spinning away, somehow out of control. When she looked up, she saw a man in beige, but her dizziness prevented her for even managing to focus on him. She rubbed her face one again but when she tried to focus on him, she realized that it was not possible.

As the tears brimmed from beneath her frightened eyes, she looked up at him. "D-do I know you?"

The man nodded and came over to where she was on the floor. "My name is Andrew, Karen and I'm an angel sent by God to help you get through this night."

"W-why are you here?" She whispered, but she had to close her eyes to keep the dizziness from overwhelming her.

"I'm here to help you," he said softly, as he kneeled down beside her. As he got comfortable on the floor next to her, he could suddenly feel her weight collapsing against him, and he knew what it was, she did not even have the strength to remain upright.

"W-what's happening to me?" She whimpered as she felt him wrapping his arms around her and cradling her in his embrace.

"You're very sick, Karen, you need a doctor and a lot of help," Andrew said softly. "But, you will only get that help if you acknowledge what is wrong."

"What is it?"

Andrew looked down at the girl who was now comfortingly held in his embrace. "You have anorexia, it's a eating disorder and it basically means that you are slowly starving yourself to death."

"No, it's not that, I'm just dizzy," she whispered.

The angel shook his head slowly as he looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "I'm here to tell you that without help, you will see me again, Karen, and the next time you see me this way," he nodded indicating his mode of dress, "I will have to take you Home with me." With tears in his eyes, he looked down at he earnestly. "I don't want to be sent back here officially again, but I know that it will all be up to you to do something about this disease."

As he spoke, he brushed his hand gently through her hair and within moments, she had managed to focus on him once again. "Andrew, what should I do?"

"Talk to your sister, and let her help you," the angel said gently.

"I tried, tonight I wanted to talk to her…" she whispered her voice getting softer with each word. Eventually, she found the courage to continue. "…but she only got angry. Can't you help me, Andrew?"

Andrew nodded, but he smiled gently at her. "I will help in any way I can, but this challenge will be up to you. God is with you, Karen, and I am with you, too."

"But, you just said if you got sent to me again…" her voice trailed off and she shuddered and he knew just by looking at her that she was frightened of him.

After a few moments of silence, Andrew spoke. "I am here with you now and I will stay with you until you make a choice, then it will be decided what I do or where I go next." At that moment, she noticed that he was no longer dressed in beige, and he was no longer glowing. Instead, he was dressed casually and he regarded her with gentility in his expression.

"W-what just happened?" She whispered.

"I am no longer officially here," Andrew smiled. "Your dizzy spell is a thing of the past."

"Do you mean that I have an Angel of Death as a guardian angel?" Karen asked softly.

Andrew nodded. "It looks that way."

"Can anyone else see you, like my sister, or my mom?" She asked hesitantly.

The angel said nothing; he merely shook his head. "No one can see me but you."

"Great, now everyone is going to think I'm crazy," she whispered under her breath, but after a few moments, she allowed him to help her get up off the floor and he helped her crawl back into bed. Once she was under the covers, Andrew went over and clicked off the light. "Andrew?" She whispered his name and he returned to her bedside.

"I'm right here, Karen," he said softly.

"Thank you," she whispered as she closed her eyes. In the darkness she reached for his hand and was relieved when she felt his fingers curling around her own.

The angel smiled weakly, but said nothing in response to her words; instead he leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. "You're not alone, Karen," he said softly.

Seconds after tucking her in, the door to her room opened and Bethany came charging into the room. "Karen, we need to talk."

Karen sat slowly up in bed as Bethany switched on the light. "Bethany, what's going on? What happened to you?" She asked once she could see the white gauze that covered Bethany's ankle.

"I fell and twisted my ankle tonight after sneaking out," Bethany said softly. "Karen, you're not going to believe what happened to me tonight."

"Were you visited by an angel, too?" Karen looked at her sister as she tried to sit up in the bed. She rubbed her face with her hands as the words emerged.

"H-how did you know?" Bethany asked softly.

"You're probably not going to believe this, but I had this dizzy spell, and there was this angel in here just now, and he was telling me some really scary stuff," Karen said softly. "Bethany, I'm sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean to."

Bethany looked at her sister with shock and surprise shadowing her eyes. "Karen, when we were outside earlier, you were trying to tell me something and I didn't listen to you. I guess you're kind of scared because of what has been happening to you."

"What do you mean?" Karen looked at her sister.

"I saw the signs I just didn't say anything, but Karen, I noticed how you won't eat when we go out with Mom. You would always say you have to stay fit and trim for the squad. I guess I really started to notice when some of the laxatives were disappearing. I remember we talked about this in health class, I just remembered what the signs were. You have Anorexia. I didn't see it before, maybe I didn't want to, but you're sick, Karen."

"That's what Andrew said too," Karen said softly.

"Andrew?" Bethany looked at her sister.

"He's the angel," Karen said softly. "He said I had anorexia and that I need help, but I'm scared to find out, Bethany. Billy said…"

"…Billy's a moron, Karen, you can do better than him, anyone could," Bethany said not bothering to suppress her anger. "He goes around beats up girls. I'm surprised he hasn't hit you or something. He really scares me." Sighing deeply she looked at her sister. "What did he say?"

"He said that a girl should look like a Barbie doll," Karen said softly.

"Yeah, and you know if a real woman looked like that, they would be top heavy and fall over," Bethany smiled weakly. "You know, even if I tried to be Billy's perfect woman, I would fall short, because he's such a jerk and can't accept people as they are. Ever since you started dating him, you've been mean to me, and you've called me names behind my back. I know you don't believe it, but Miranda has heard it and she said that it makes her mad."

"But, I thought you hated yourself," Karen said softly.

Bethany nodded. "I do, but it's because I listened to the insults for a long time. You don't forget when your sister insults you and says that you're a 'fat cow' or something, it does hurt, it goes straight to my heart."

"I'm sorry I did so much to hurt you, Bethany, it wasn't my intention," Karen said softly.

"Well, intended or not, it hurt," Bethany said.

"Then why are you here?" Karen asked.

"I'm here because Adam said that you needed me, and I won't turn away from someone if they need me." She smiled weakly as she looked at her sister. "He told me that no matter what I look like, God's going to love me anyway, because He made me. Maybe that's what the angels are here to do, to remind us that we're special in our own way."

"You really believe that?" Karen asked.

"It's better than to believe in the alternative, that I'm a fat and ugly loser," Bethany said. "I thought instead of trying to talk to you, that I would hate you for what your friends did to me, but it's a lot easier to hate then it is to try to help someone."

Karen looked at her sister and then over where Andrew was standing. The angel nodded in her direction.

*****

The following morning, Bethany woke up to hear her mother screaming. She crawled out of bed and managed to get to the door of her room only to see her mother looking at her through angry and accusing eyes. "Your sister is sick and you never told me."

"What happened?" Bethany asked softly.

"Get dressed," her mother barked and without answering the question she ran down the hall.

Bethany turned away from the door and went hastily over to her closet and got dressed. Once she was dressed, she came out of her room and walked down the hall and down the stairs. In the living room, Shannon was consulting with a woman Bethany didn't know. The woman was tall with auburn colored hair and Bethany hesitantly came into the room as her mother's eyes were suddenly on her.

"What's going on?" Bethany finally managed to ask.

"My name is Monica, Bethany, I'm a counselor for the 'Eating Disorder Center'," came the response. "Your mother called us this morning after she had spoken to your sister."

"Why didn't you tell me that Karen had this disease?" Shannon shouted.

"Because I didn't know," Bethany shouted just as loudly.

"Ladies, please, blame is not going to bring Karen home any faster," Monica said softly. "Now that Karen has been taken to our facility, I think we should talk about what has happened. Calmly and rationally."

"You give your spiel to someone else, Monica," Shannon snapped. "I am not in the mood for it." She turned and looked at her daughter. "As for you, I want to know what is going on and I want to know now."

Bethany looked at her mother. "What does it matter, Karen is the center of everyone's universe. Just because I don't troll after my sister it is suddenly my fault that she has an eating disorder. Maybe you should be screaming and yelling at Billy."

"Billy? What does he have to do with your sister not eating?" Shannon shouted.

"He has everything to do with it," Bethany shouted as she got to her feet. "You just want to blame someone like me because you think I'm the one who is supposed to force-feed my sister."

"I never said that, Bethany," Shannon said.

"You didn't have to," Bethany said looking at her mother. "You have done everything for Karen. Let's go shopping and get Karen a prom gown, let's buy her a corsage for homecoming, but when the time came for me to get anything, there wasn't enough money, there was just a sappy apology before you went out the door to watch Karen cheer for yet another football or basketball game."

Monica looked from mother to daughter, and eventually she held up both hands. "Now, wait a minute."

"No," Bethany cried out. "I've waited enough, now I'm leaving. If all I get in this family is yelled at, then maybe it would be better that I'm no longer a part of this family." With that, she walked slowly towards the door. Before leaving, she turned around and looked at her mother, her eyes filled with contempt as she spoke. "Admit it, Mom, I'm never going to be the apple of your eyes, I'm just the reason for all the problems that Karen has."

Once she left the house, Shannon started to go after her, but Monica stopped her. "You know, it may be none of my business…" she began.

"You're right, it's not any of your business, so just butt out," Shannon shouted.

"If I were to butt out," Monica said softly, "then your daughter would be dead, Mrs. Richardson."

"What are you talking about?"

"Bethany is not the reason Karen has a eating disorder, and your behavior towards Bethany may lead her down the same destructive path Karen has journeyed down," Monica said softly. "I met Karen last week when I was hired to help with the cheerleaders at her school. I have seen what Anorexia does to the psyche of a young person, I can put you in touch with a girl who battled an eating disorder and won, her name is Nancy, and she battled a similar condition when she was 12-years-old. I can tell you countless stories of young woman who have died because they had these eating disorders that went untreated."

"Why didn't Bethany tell me?" Shannon asked. "She knew."

Monica shook her head. "No, she didn't. Bethany has been trying to find out who she is for years now. She has felt lost and without hope, she has taken these feelings and has put them into the stanzas of poems and creative writing. Bethany has been scorned because of her weight, she has been ridiculed and she has put these feelings down as a way of coming to find out who she is."

"How could you know all these things?" Shannon asked.

"How could you, as her mother, not know?" Monica challenged. "My friend, Adam is her substitute English teacher, and he told me that your daughter has a wonderful creative gift. She has a gift of words and can take them and make them into something completely magical and beautiful. Did you even notice that when Bethany left this room just now, she had white gauze wrapped around her foot? Bethany has been living her life for the last 17 years in the shadows of her beautiful and popular older sister. She is not Karen's caregiver, and she is not responsible for Karen developing an eating disorder."

Shannon shook her head. "I didn't notice. I honestly didn't."

"Maybe now is the time to start noticing," Monica said softly.

"Do you know where Bethany went? I mean; she really shouldn't be running off like this, not when we really have to get to the clinic," Shannon said softly.

Monica shook her head. "Every child has a place where they go to hide from the rest of the world. Maybe the place where you might start is Bethany's favorite place."

Shannon looked at her. "I don't know of any such a place."

"Think about it, Shannon, a place where a child can experience the feelings she carries in the deepest recesses of her heart. Bethany has written about such a place." She reached into her briefcase, and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. This she extended towards Bethany and Karen's mother.

Shannon looked down at the poem and started to read.

Run away, take away the feelings I carry

Give me the hope as I try to understand that I am

Deserving of kindness and love

And it's not some painted reflection I see

Let me remember those days when I was a princess

Seated and looking out across a beautiful green valley

My reflection mirrored in the water's glassy surface

And my home in the flowers in the luscious glade.

Please God, let me go to that place now

Let me be where I feel Your love and know who I am.

"She wrote that?" Shannon asked as she looked at Monica.

The angel nodded. "Your daughter has been writing poetry as a way to fill the void your and Karen's rejection has left her with. The emptiness in Bethany is present in her work. In her heart, she carries the overwhelming desire to be held, accepted, and loved by you. She is losing herself in her writing, she is entrusting herself to the pages and textures of the written word, but what she needs is know that her mother loves her and that she is important enough to drop everything for."

"How do you know all of this?" Shannon demanded as Monica began to glow, her eyes filled with love as the angel regarded the now shocked and confused woman. "Who are you?" She finally found her voice and demanded.

"I am an angel, sent by God to tell you what He has told me about your daughter, Shannon. You see, God has been speaking to the spirit of that child ever since she picked up a pen and began composing her words into verses; her poetry is her prayer for acceptance and love. But, even poetry does not give this child the love that she so desperately needs and deserves. The Father gave her a wonderful and precious gift, and this is the capability to draw pictures with words, and these are the permanent fixtures in that young lady's spirit."

"But, how can I focus so much on Bethany when Karen is going into treatment for anorexia?" Shannon asked softly.

"How can you not?" Monica challenged. "You have been rationalizing for years why you can't do things for Bethany. You have given everything to Karen, but you have not seen the tears in your younger daughter's eyes, and if you had, you have ignored them. When Bethany came into this room this morning, you got angry with her because you felt as though she had known of her sister's condition and had not told you. Yet, I will tell you this, the only person who knew about what Karen faced was Miranda, Bethany's best friend. The reason she knew about this was because she has been keeping a scrapbook of articles that her grandmother had maintained and wanted to pass on to her once she had died."

"What does that have to do with Karen?" Shannon asked.

"There was an article about another Karen, Shannon, and once upon a time, this Karen was a wonderful and talented singer who had the ability to use her voice to make a love song into a wonderful experience. She had given these songs a life that was all its own. This Karen died because she had anorexia that went untreated for years, and Miranda's grandmother kept this article about her because Karen Carpenter was a part of musical history, and her heart had broken when this beautiful and talented individual died."

Shannon looked at the angel. "Is that the message, is my daughter Karen, going to die?"

"I do not know, but I can tell you this, you are standing at a crossroad, you have two daughters who have been told for the longest of times by a boy, that they are too fat, and they have responded accordingly, one showing the signs of a debilitating medical condition, the other retreating to the lonely world of writing. Karen and Bethany both need you, but right now, you need to determine who needs you the most. A daughter who has chosen to get help, or the daughter who has yet to receive the help she desperately needs. God is giving you a choice, Shannon, and He hopes that you will make the right one."

Shannon looked at Monica, but when she was unable to speak, she shook her head. "I honestly don't know what to do, Monica."

"Maybe you should do what we do in times like this," the angel said gently.

"What's that?" Shannon asked weakly.

"Pray," Monica smiled.

*****

Bethany tried to walk quickly away from her mother's house, but when she felt the pain with the weight that was on her ankle, she stopped, wishing all the while that she had her pain medication with her. She could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes as she walked slowly in the direction of the tree house she had built with her father back when she was a little girl. When she didn't feel the peace engulf her when she reached the edge of the park she stopped walking and glanced skyward, her thoughts returning to Adam's words from the night before.

"Hey guys, better call Greenpeace and tell them we found their whale," a voice emerged, and she turned around to see Billy coming towards her, a group of his friends walking behind. As the group of boys began to laugh, Bethany's face flushed crimson.

"Step closer and try saying that again, you wimp," she seethed through clenched teeth.

Billy came closer, his eyes bearing into hers, and he looked as though he was about to lunge at her. "Hey guys, if the fatso sits on me I'll be squashed."

Bethany looked at him, her eyes filled with pain, but she stepped closer, her fists clenched. "I wouldn't worry about your body, Billy, I'd worry about your dental insurance," she yelled. Before she could stop herself, she lunged at him, her fists flying and before he could get away from her, he received a blow, thus causing one of his teeth to fall out onto the ground. When he tasted the blood in his mouth, he backed away from her. "That's for the abuse that you subjected my sister to, you moron," she cried out as the rest of the boys backed away from her.

Once they had run off, she sank down onto the ground, her eyes filling with tears as she remembered the insults they had dished out and to what extent those words had hurt. "A tooth can be healed," she whispered, "but not the damage his words have done."

"No, words can sometimes be the most damaging and hurtful means in which human beings express themselves," Adam's voice emerged and from down on the ground, she looked up to see him standing over her, his gray eyes filled with empathy.

Instead of maintaining any sort of eye contact with him, she glanced back down at the ground, her expression a depiction of the overwhelming shame she carried in the deep recesses of her wounded spirit. "I didn't want to do that," she whispered.

"I know you didn't," Adam said as he crouched down next to her on the ground. Once he was seated next her he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder hoping that she would look up at him. "Sometimes, that is all a person can do to keep from losing themselves."

"Everyone blames me, Adam," she whispered.

"Not everyone," he said gently as he reached over and touched her face, his fingers brushing the tears from beneath her eyes.

"But, it's true, it is all my fault," she whispered.

Adam shook his head and began to speak, his voice soft. "Bethany, I want you to listen to me, OK?" She nodded numbly, and he continued speaking. "Just because your mother said so or a bunch of school bullies said this, does not mean it's true. Never allow the words of another to drown out the gentle and soft voice of your Creator that says 'you are loved', 'you are special', and 'you are beautiful just as you are'. Whether you believe it or not, Bethany, you saved your sister's life last night. You were the one who gave Karen the courage to contact help this morning. She was afraid, but she knew that if you were with her, that she would get through therapy."

"I did?" Bethany looked up at him with tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"You may not have mentioned the poetry contest, your writing, and you may not have written a single word, but your goodness and your concern was the poetry of the soul, and this is what connected you to Karen last night. You remembered that voice inside that said, 'regardless of what happens, I know that I cannot go on without my sister in my life'."

"Is that what I said?"

"In essence, yes," Adam smiled gently at her. "You told your sister that you forgive her, and that you care for her. You told her what Andrew told her, and that was what she really needed to hear, not from an angel, but from you, someone Karen knows, and trusts."

"I don't think she trusts me," Bethany whispered.

"She does, sweetheart," Adam said.

"Why doesn't my mother see this, Adam, why does she blame me?" She looked into the gray eyes of the angel and shook her head. As she did, the tears continued to fall from beneath her eyes and she watched as he pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "What is that?" She finally managed to ask, her voice caught up with the emotions she was experiencing.

Adam continued to unfold the crumpled piece of paper and after a few moments, he handed it to her. "You wrote this before we met, and when you threw it away, I found it. You see; nothing is ever really lost, Bethany, God knew that you would need this again, and that it might help to know from where that inspiration has come. Now, read it."

Bethany looked down at piece of paper and as she stared at the writing on it, she could feel the tears that were brimming underneath them as she read the sixteen line poem that she had composed the night when she was experiencing the most hopelessness and despondency.

I was walking alone through the street

My heart was open for newness,

But my mind was filled with questions

Those words emerging asking, who am I?

I want to know the answer,

I want to feel complete

Yet, I sit alone here pondering

Waiting for a prayer to receive its answer.

Hopelessness still enfolds me,

But, what does it matter?

For I am alone, my solace no longer a gift

It is filled to capacity with longings and false hope.

God, who am I?

What am I doing here?

Why do feel overcome with anxiety

And where can I turn to find an answer?

As she finished, she had tears streaming from beneath her eyes and she looked up at him. "Y-you found it?"

"All prayers are answered, Bethany, this poem was your prayer, it was composed in a caring and loving manner and whether you believe it or not, it was more than just a poem, it was your plea that somewhere, somehow, someone could understand that part of you that no one in your life has even tried to do."

"What am I doing here?" She whispered.

Adam wrapped her in his arms. "You know, there are a lot of teenagers in this world who wonder the same thing. There are a lot of adults here who, after they grew up, stopped asking these questions simply because it no longer seemed to be the right thing to do. They were wrong, questions lead to understanding, and that is what you are doing here. You are using your thoughts and ideals to create a manner to ask the Father your questions. He wants you to know that there is nothing wrong with asking nor is there anything at all wrong with you."

"Then why do people call me names because I wrote poetry or because I'm fat?" She asked weakly.

"There will always be prejudices, sweetheart," Adam said softly as he brushed a gentle hand through her hair. "It might be the core of the matter, it could be jealousy, incompleteness, sadness, depression, and a number of other feelings. Remember, there are a lot of people who ask these kinds of questions, but many of whom are not listening to the answers, and they think that you are more loved because you are inspired by those answers. You see, it could actually be any number of things that might make you feel ignored, but you, and you alone, are the one who can change that."

"But, I am," she whispered, but within seconds, she looked at him to see that he was staring down the street. As she did, she realized that coming towards them was Shannon and after a few moments, Bethany looked at Adam, as he spoke, his voice gentle.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked and pointed.

When she looked up and could see her mother she looked back at Adam and spoke, her voice filled with nervousness. "Why is she here?"

"Maybe you should give her a chance to explain, maybe she's here to answer some of those questions you might be carrying," he said softly.

As Shannon walked towards them, Bethany looked up, but when she looked back at where Adam had been seated, she realized that the angel was now gone. She got up off the ground and dusted herself off as her mother approached.

"Bethany?" Shannon spoke.

"I'm sorry, Mom," the teenager said softly. "I guess I just needed some time to myself."

"Monica told me that you helped Karen last night," Shannon said softly.

Bethany shrugged her shoulders and stared down at the ground. "I don't know if I helped her at all," she whispered.

"You did," Shannon said.

"Why do you tell me that now?" Bethany asked weakly. "You never listened to me before."

"I know, but this time I realized how wrong it was for me not to," Shannon said softly.

"You did?" Bethany looked at her mother as if she had just admitted to juggling bananas in the circus.

"Sometimes it happens, sometimes even moms tend to forget things like how important their children really are. See, ever since your father walked out, I have been trying to play both roles because I know how much it hurt you and Karen. But, it was more than that, honey. I guess I ignored you because you reminded me so much of your father."

"It hurt," Bethany said softly.

"I know that now, and I know how hard it is to face this pain, but you are facing it, and you are coming through it. Your sister, sweetheart, has had a different way to deal with it, she has gone down a dangerous road, has developed an eating disorder. This isn't your fault, Bethany, maybe it's mine, but it's not yours," Shannon took a deep breath as she continued. "Monica said that it would be a long road for Karen."

"Monica, I've heard that name before," Bethany said softly.

"Well, she's the caseworker who was that house when you left, she's from the clinic," Shannon said softly.

"No, she's an angel, Mom, Tess was right, there have been angels all around us during the last few days."

"What do you mean?" Shannon asked.

"Adam, my friend, he's an angel, and Tess was this lady I met last night at the community center, and when I found out that Adam was an angel, she told me that we were surrounded by angels. I didn't think much about it, but then Karen said last night that she had an angel with her too, she said his name was Andrew." Bethany shook her head in disbelief. "Mom, why would God send four angels to the same family?"

"Because He loves you," Adam said and they both turned around to see him standing on the sidewalk once again.

Shannon looked at him. "You're an angel too?"

"Mom, this is Adam, he's my friend," Bethany said smiling weakly.

Adam nodded. "Yes, I am, and I was sent here to help your daughter find her way, and one of the ways is through her writing. As I have said, the creative gift that Bethany holds is a very special one, it is what sets her apart from all other people, simply because that is a part of her. It can be nurtured through encouragement, or it can be scorned and buried deeply within a person's broken spirit." Adam put a gentle hand on Bethany's shoulder. "You will find your way now, you have your mother and your sister to help you."

"You're leaving?" Bethany asked. "Please Adam, don't leave."

"Soon it will be time, but before that time comes, submit this to that contest, not in Miranda's name, or your sister's, but in your own. You have the gift of writing Bethany and that should bring you joy, not sorrow."

She took the poem that he offered her and when she looked down at the writing, she nodded.

"What is that?" Shannon asked.

"It's the poem I wrote for the English class," she showed it to her mother and once Shannon had finished reading it, Bethany looked at Adam. "You think I have a chance with this one?"

"It doesn't matter what I think, Bethany, what matters is what you think," he said and smiled. "But, you'd better hurry, the deadline is five o'clock today." He handed her a second piece of paper and she looked down and noticed the entry form for the contest.

*****

An hour later, Shannon and Bethany arrived at the community center and the teenager handed the poem as well as her entry form to the woman seated at the table. Once she got her number, she and Shannon made their way back outside. "If I make a fool of myself here, it will be all Adam's fault."

Shannon began to laugh, her first real laugh since Karen had started dating Billy and Karen had stopped eating. "You think an angel would lead you astray?"

"Ms. Richardson," a voice called out Shannon's name and they both turned around to see Billy coming towards them. Bethany backed away from her mother, but not before she noticed the fear in the eyes of her daughter.

"What is it Billy?" She asked, her voice stern as she looked into the eyes of the boy.

"Hi Bethany," the boy offered as he looked at the girl.

It suddenly became clear to Bethany why it was her mother had been blinded by Billy's motives, this was all an act, and she could feel the anger building up inside of her as she looked at the boy. "What you haven't made your appointment at the dentist?" She asked sarcastically.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Billy said, his eyes speaking volumes, but this time Bethany could understand something about courage, and from deep within herself, she knew that standing up to Billy was the most important thing that she could do.

"You know, Mom, this guy is a bigger theatrical joke than the clown in the Sweet Street Circus, do we have to stay here and listen to him suck up?" Bethany asked her eyes intent as she looked at her mother. "Just ask him if he thinks Karen is too fat?"

Shannon looked at the boy. "You heard the question, let's hear the answer."

Billy looked at both of them, but eventually he spoke. "Only a little bit," he hedged.

"A little bit? My sister has the body weight of an average paper clip, if she lost anymore weight, she be translucent," Bethany spat out.

"You wouldn't be, Orca," Billy said before he could stop himself.

If Bethany had not been so angry with Billy she probably would have burst out laughing. Instead, she suppressed the urge and looked him squarely in the eyes and smiled smugly at him. "Thank you Billy, you just proved to my mother that for the last year, you have been acting like the most perfect boyfriend to my sister, but now she knows the truth. She knows that your act is nothing more than a joke. And when the other kids at school find out that the star cheerleader is in a clinic for eating disorders, then they will know who was responsible for helping to put her there."

The boy's face lost all its color and he looked at Shannon. "Eating disorders?"

"Karen has anorexia, Billy, and your comments about her weight helped contribute to her getting it," Shannon said dryly. "The fact is, you have insulted both of my daughters, and you have lied to me in the process. Now, I don't want you around my family anymore, and if I hear anything of you or your cronies beating up or hurting either of my daughters again, I will have your happy butt in jail so fast, you won't know what hit. Have I made myself clear?"

Billy looked around nervously expecting some help, but when he realized that he was alone, he could only nod and back away from them.

Once he was gone, Shannon looked at Bethany. "Where on earth did that come from?"

"I don't know, but that was great, Mom, you really told him."

"I took your lead," Shannon laughed nervously. "Come on, let's get home, and get changed and go to the clinic. I think Karen is probably ready to get a little bit of support too."

Bethany smiled. "You think I really have a chance at winning?"

"I think you do," Shannon said. "But, just for added insurance, what's say after we pay Karen a visit, you and I go and have some makeovers done. I haven't done anything impulsive in years?"

Bethany smiled. "That sounds great."

As her mother put her arm around her shoulder, Bethany glanced skyward, "thank you," she whispered and as they walked to the car, a dove was seen flying through the trees and disappearing in the distance.

Epilogue

"The winner of this year's poetry contest is Bethany Richardson," the announcer's voice erupted through the community center's auditorium and the winner looked at her mother with a smile on her face that could have put the sun to shame.

"Well, what are you waiting for, get up there," Shannon said smiling as Bethany got to her feet.

"Yeah, you go girl," her older sister said. It was now a month later and Karen had gotten a weekend away from the clinic and she had attended the awards banquet with her mother and younger sister.

Bethany smiled weakly as she got to her feet and walked up to the stage. As she climbed the steps, she accepted a large golden trophy and smiled out across the audience who were clapping, their enthusiasm almost matching the hammering of her heart as she ran her hand over the smooth surface of the golden object she now held.

As the Master of Ceremonies handed her a microphone, Bethany smiled as she looked out at the crowd assembled. "I don't know what to say. I didn't prepare a speech because I honestly didn't think I'd win. I know this is going to come off really sounding cheesy, but I have to tell you that writing poetry was the one thing that I knew I could do well. I'm not pretty and popular like my sister, and I thought for a long time that she had it all, but during the last month especially I realized that she had problems too, she carried hers on the outside, and I carried mine on the inside, but they were the same problems, they were centered around acceptance. Not just me accepting myself, but other people as well."

She bowed her head, the hair hanging down over her face, and finally she flipped it back up and continued speaking. "Then I met a friend who helped me to realize that no matter what my problems are, God is everywhere, and He's the one that gave me the ability to write, He's the one who gave Karen the ability to overcome anorexia. So, when I wrote the poem I submitted to this contest, I discovered that this was more than a poem, it was my prayer."

As she read the poem, she glanced up and noticed that the rest of the room had grown silent. When she finished, the people present began to applaud and she smiled weakly as she noticed the four angels standing in the back of the room, all of them applauding and she quickly handed the microphone back to the man on the stage and she ran down the steps all the while trying to carry the large trophy and stumbling in the heels she had on her feet.

"Wait, don't go," she called out.

The angels stopped and when she reached them, she was out of breath. As she reached them, she extended her free hand to Adam. "You wouldn't leave without saying 'good-bye', would you, Adam?"

The gray-eyed Angel of Death shook his head. "No, I wouldn't."

Tess leaned over and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll wait for you outside, Angel Boy," she said and motioned for Monica and Andrew to follow her. Before they left, Andrew could see that Karen was seated in the front of the room with her mother and he quickly excused himself and went down the aisle in her direction.

Bethany stared after him. "He was with my sister, wasn't he?"

Adam nodded. "Yes, that's Andrew."

"He looks like a nice guy," Bethany shrugged her shoulders as she looked up at him. "I guess this is it, you're off to new adventures. I guess that sounds kind of stupid, huh?"

"No, not stupid, but I'm going back to work at my usual job, but I wanted to tell you that I was really glad that I got to meet you, you're a very likeable person," he smiled as he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Once you get past all the layers, huh?" She smiled weakly. "I guess you notice I don't take complements very well. It's weird, but like I said up there, I didn't prepare myself to win, I just wanted to come here and show the world that poets come in all shapes and sizes. I also had Miranda twist my arm about it."

"You have a good friend in her," Adam said smiling. "I didn't meet her, but I know that she cares for you."

"Will you forget me after you and your friends leave?" Bethany asked.

Adam shook his head and smiled at her. "I won't, and you?"

"No, ever, I may be composing poetry about you until I die," she smiled. "In say, eighty or ninety years. I imagine that I'll have all these poetry books then, a few pet cats and a longing to learn the game of chess." Her eyes twinkled merrily and Adam chuckled as Andrew joined him, the green-eyed angel smiling at the young woman.

"You ready?" Andrew asked.

"Yes," he looked down at Bethany. "Take care of yourself."

"You too," she smiled as she felt a tear stream down her cheek. "Oh, Andrew, thanks for looking out for Karen."

"You should thank Miranda, Bethany, she did more than I did," he said and smiled as he and Adam walked towards the doors leading outside.

As they disappeared outside, Bethany picked up her trophy and turned around to see Miranda coming towards her. "Hey, Miranda, I got a problem?"

"What? Is winning a measly poetry contest not enough for you, are you trying to take my future Pulitzer too?" Miranda asked slyly, her eyes shining brightly as she approached her best friend.

"No, it's about Andrew," Bethany said.

"You saw him?" Miranda smiled impishly. "He's a doll isn't he?"

"No, he an angel you dork, and he said that you were the one that saved Karen's life," Bethany said.

"Wait a minute, rewind! Are you telling me that Mister 'hot looking, blonde hair, green eyes' is an angel, like from God?" Miranda asked and when Bethany responded with a silent nod, she looked at her intently. "You're not kidding, are you? That doll was an angel? Someone catch me, I think I'm going to faint."

"Miranda, will you stop swooning long enough to tell me what you did that helped Karen?" Bethany asked. "You'd better tell me fast or else this trophy is going to double as a battering ram."

"OK, OK, I gave him an article that I found in the newspaper, and I guess he did the rest," Miranda shrugged her shoulders, but it was obvious that she did not want to abandon the idea that Andrew was an angel. "Bethany, how much time did you spend with Andrew?"

"Miranda, you're the most hopeless case I have ever seen in my life," Bethany smiled. "Have I told you lately how grateful I am that you're my best friend?"

"If I'm such a good friend, why couldn't you arrange me a date with Andrew?" As Miranda's voice faded, Bethany laughed and the two of them walked outside. Once they had reached the courtyard they could both hear the sound of a white dove cooing as it took to flight and disappeared over the trees. As it did, the article Miranda had given to Andrew drifted down and landed in her hands and once she recognized it, she looked at Bethany.

"Maybe he really was an angel…" she said softly, her voice trailing off, but when she looked at her best friend, she could see that Bethany was nodding.

"He was," Bethany said softly. "They all were."

Miranda nodded, at last she finally understood.

*****

At the same time, Adam and Andrew had joined Tess, Monica, and Sam at Tess' prided red Cadillac. "So, everything turned out OK," Tess was saying once Sam had asked her for her summation about how Adam had done with this assignment.

"Adam did a really great job," Andrew said. "He helped Bethany talk to her sister, and that saved Karen's life."

Monica smiled. "I think it went really well."

Tess nodded as they piled into the car. "So Sam, does this mean that Adam will be joining us now and again on cases?"

Adam smiled. "I would love it, Tess, but maybe not any time soon, though." The Angel of Death cracked a mischievous smile. "Now, can I interest any of you in a double mocha ice cream a la mode? I just tried it right before this case started and I have to tell you, it's as close to heaven as I think I will get here on earth."

As Tess rolled her eyes, she muttered, "Father, please one coffee addicted angel is enough for me…"

As Andrew and Sam exchanged knowing looks, the car was suddenly filled with the jovial laughter of the angels. "Let's just go Home, Tess," Sam said once he had stopped chuckling and as they drove down the highway, the car disappeared in the distance.

The End…