A ‘Touched By an Angel’ story
And sequel to 'Yvonne's Song'
As the drops of rain fell down over the small town, Yvonne Hudson took a deep breath as she walked through the park all the while hoping that the rain would stop, but not really caring because she was already wet. The early overcast morning was the first day of summer, and she really didn't think much about it, in fact, if the truth have been known, she could have cared less.
Once she found a bench, she grabbed the plastic slicker out of her belongings and spread it out on the wooden surface before sitting down. An unhappy sigh emerged from between her pursed lips, but nothing seemed to matter anymore, she had lost all the hope in the world, her eye were filling with tears for what appeared to be the unteenth time since watching the news that morning, all the while sitting in her small apartment drinking her coffee.
There was no denying it, her heart was broken, and she could do nothing except shake her head despondently. As she sat there alone in the rain, she wondered what God would think of this entire episode. Would He be as saddened by the events in the news as she now was? Would He really have chosen men who harmed children as religious leaders in one of the largest Christian faiths in the world? Would it have mattered to Him only to see them get a mere slap on the wrist for having harmed those who looked up to them?
Yvonne could still feel the tears streaming from beneath her sad brown eyes, as she looked around the park not even bothering to wipe the moisture away as it trickled down over the surface of her face. It was at that precise instant in her young life she felt as though her heart was shattering into thousands of tiny pieces. Looking up, she could see the steeple of the local church, its bell chiming in the distance, thus announcing the eleven o'clock hour.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she shook her head trying to shut out the sounds that seemed to remind her of some of the problems that seemed to be in this world. After a few moments, she cast the newspaper aside, all the while unaware that she had actually been sitting there wringing the object around in her hand, the anger welling up in her broken spirit as she stared down at the headline.
This can't be happening, she thought sadly to herself, but wherever she went, the truth had emerged, children were once again overlooked, children like me, she thought grimly as she tried without success to rip up the wadded newspaper in her hands. When she couldn't, she unrolled it and tried once again.
Oh God, I need some help, I really do, her thoughts emerged almost as though she was praying, but for Yvonne, she now felt that God had abandoned those who needed Him, and this pained her straight to her soul. She looked down at her hands, they were now wet and smeared with the blackness of the newspaper ink, but all the while, she could feel the tears as they continued to stream down her face.
When she eventually opened her eyes, she realized that she was still alone, that the hope of seeing an angel at this stage in her life was probably the greatest impossibility that could have existed. She finally managed to rip the newspaper down the middle and she threw them into a nearby garbage can. As much as she wanted to block out the words in the news, she could not forget what it was she had read and heard.
It was no question; any story that dealt with child abuse did catch the young woman's eye. She knew what she had lived through, and anything that dealt with children, were things that she watched and paid particular attention to. She had a better understanding of this issue than anyone because she herself had lived with the shame and devastation of sexual abuse.
She knew that abuse survivors were often stigmatized, but the fact remained, she would rather die than to do anything to harm a child, and it outraged her to such a degree that abusers got off with a mere wrist slapping, yet, at the same time, she would watch animal rights activists go completely nuts whenever someone would harm an animal, many of those who stood accused would be thrown behind bars until they rotted, but it seemed as though those who abused children would walk free. Today, she was completely put out with the injustice of a system that was supposed to protect children, and yet she could understand why the youth of today were so angry, because, she, herself carried similar feelings of animosity.
Taking a deep breath, her mind drifted as she contemplated Andrew. She hadn't seen the compassionate Angel of Death since she was twelve, but today, she had started to wonder if he had merely been a part of a dream. She remembered how he had come into her life as a history teacher. He helped her find the courage to speak out about the events that had been taking place in her own life, but soon after the story had emerged, he had vanished as though he had been nothing short of a figment of her imagination, and now she often wondered if, in fact, he had been just that.
As the church bell stopped ringing, she watched as a man walked through the park, she knew him, he was the priest for the local church, and although she didn't know him at all, she had no desire to know him, much less, make small talk with him.
Of course, having grown up without any firm sort of religious background, Yvonne had never really met anyone in the Catholic clergy, and now after the news had been released about them, she didn't want to have anything to do with this particular church. It wasn't that she believed that everyone in a certain church was a certain way, as Yvonne Hudson did whatever she could to keep from judging anyone. However, her pain was constantly resurfacing and if others actually knew about her past, then they would probably judge her, as many victims were harshly judged and the sympathies of the public always seemed to be on the side of the assailant.
Oh, what did it matter? She often pondered to herself. No one could really understand why it was she felt this way, simply because they did not understand the emotions from a sexual abuse victim's point of view. No one could, unless they, themselves, had lived through this kind of thing. The fact is; the church only seemed to care about saving their skin or reputations, than to justice.
Now that the church had turned the other cheek, Yvonne felt as though the abusers had simply gotten away with it. It was as though those men were above the law simply because of their career choices.
With a look of extreme determination on her face, Yvonne remained resolute. As far as she was concerned, abusers were abusers, and they should be in jail, not running free, and certainly not posing as religious leaders.
Shaking her head despondently, she glanced skyward. How could a church allow this to happen? She asked herself almost constantly, as fresh tears streamed down over her face, but what she failed to notice was that the priest she had seen walking along the path through the park had suddenly stopped and was now looking at her, not really staring, but looking at her with a sort of contemplative look on his face.
When she eventually looked away, no one could see that her eyes filled with bitterness, but she continued to stare at the young priest as he continued walking in the direction of the chiming church bells. As he walked through the gates and out of the park, no one seemed to notice that Yvonne had tears streaming down her cheeks, her own disturbing thoughts literally engulfing her.
In the distance, three angels, a man and two women, stood watching the young woman as she tried with all that was inside of her to keep her emotions in check. "Yvonne," the man muttered under his breath, his heart literally aching as he watched her staring down at her lap, there on the bench. All the while, he was trying to understand what it was specifically that had affected her emotions in such an overwhelming and profound way.
"Andrew, you're going to get to see her very soon," the eldest of the three angels said, this one a compassionate woman with mahogany colored skin. She, too, was watching Yvonne, and though she did not know her as well as her 'Angel Boy', she knew that the young woman had adequate reason to feel as lousy as she did.
"Tess, what has happened that brought so much back to her?" Andrew asked as he continued to watch as Yvonne ripped the newspaper apart. "I always thought that she would get through this. I mean; I understood how hard all of this had been for her, but she's strong." He could somehow not be able to comprehend it, yet he had long ago accepted that she possessed an unbelievable strength that he admired.
Sighing deeply, he could not help but remember how she was as a young girl and how he had once been sent to her to be her friend and to help her find the courage to speak out about the abuse she had lived through. This had been one of the hardest, but also one of the most wonderful assignments he had ever had.
Smiling slightly he remembered Yvonne as a little girl, she so shy, so kindhearted, but also seemed to be overwhelmed with pain of what she had been through. Today, she looked a mixture of frailty and assertiveness. It had been a little over seven years since he had met her and encouraged her to speak out about her mother's boyfriend after the live-in boyfriend had been molesting her.
Now, he felt somewhat shy about approaching her, it had been seven years, now she was a young woman, but beneath the assertive nature that seemed to embody her, she still looked fragile, and right at that moment, her sadness was now completely overwhelming. What could possibly have been in the newspaper that would make her so upset?
Instead of waiting for the answer to come from the Father, Andrew looked at his angelic companions. "Please, Tess, you have to tell me what has happened to her."
Tess handed her 'Angel Boy' a newspaper and the color drained from the compassionate Angel of Death's face as he read the headline:
Pedophile Priests get off with Slap on the Wrist
As he read through the article, he nodded as understanding completely overwhelmed him. He could clearly see what it was that had Yvonne upset, she had once been a victim of sexual abuse herself, and her empathic nature seemed to speak louder than any of her words ever could. Worse still, it appeared as though the clergy was trying to sweep this entire situation under the rug.
"Tess, I really should go to her," he eventually said and the supervisor nodded in his direction.
The supervisor's dark eyes were filled with sadness, but she nodded towards Andrew after giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "You take care of yourself, Angel Boy, and take care of that little baby, she needs so much comfort and the Father thinks you are the perfect angel for her. Just like when she was twelve."
Nodding, Andrew left his two friends and made his way in the direction of where Yvonne was sitting.
After a few moments watching the scene unfolding before them in the park, the younger, auburn headed angel looked towards her supervisor and back in the direction of where Andrew was walking.
"Tess, who is going to be our assignment?" Monica asked.
"Father Joshua Owens," Tess said and pointed towards the young priest that was now leaving the park, his shoulders slumped and one did not have to be an angel to know that this situation had left a drastic impact on the man.
"Did he…?" Monica asked but her question trailed off, and the Supervising caseworker knew exactly what her younger charge was driving at.
"No, he is not one of the priests that have been reported in the newspaper, but he is someone who cares about people and you and I know that he's going to need an angel when it comes to trying to cope with an angry society which will emerge in the face of this tragedy," Tess said softly. "Somehow the two of them are going to realize something absolutely imperative about the other, that stereotyping is going to do far more damage than healing."
Monica nodded and she realized what Tess was saying, especially after seeing Yvonne ripping the newspaper into tiny pieces, but more than anything, the empathic angel could clearly see what the young woman was going through.
-*-*-*-*-
Once Tess and Monica were gone, Andrew looked down at his clothing and realized that he was now dressed in casual jeans, a yellow t-shirt, a beige jacket, and overcoat. He had an umbrella in his hand, but had yet to open it. Glancing around, he could see that Monica and Tess had followed the young priest out of the park, and as the rain started to fall once again, this time it was coming down as, more or less, a steady drizzle.
Andrew made his way over to where Yvonne was seated on a wooden bench and he could plainly see that her eyes were carried an empty forlornness that tore at his gentle heart, but she remained seated on the bench, her body slumped over, her arms wrapping around herself as the rain got stronger.
Andrew smiled weakly as he regarded his young friend, but instead of just appearing next to her and possibly scaring the daylights out of her, he opened the umbrella and started to walk over towards where she was sitting. As he got closer, he could see that her head was still down, her eyes staring at the ground as though she would have loved to have been anywhere on he planet other than the place where she presently was.
As soon as the angel had reached where she was sitting, he extended a gentle hand and touched her shoulder, thus causing her to look up. Once she had managed to focus on the man, who was standing before her, her eyes widened in profound disbelief. No words emerged from her, but she shook her head as though in doubt or disbelief that he was actually there. All this time, she thought this was wishful thinking, or a daydream, but definitely not something that was real.
"Hello, Yvonne," he said softly, his voice filled with gentility, and he sat down next to her, the umbrella, he cast to one side, but his eyes sought her own surprised ones.
"AAndrew, it's you?" She finally managed to whisper, but all the while her voice was trembling, and it was completely obvious that she was having a very difficult time keeping her emotions in check. Reaching out, she touched his shoulder, but withdrew her hand as though she had touched hot coals.
It was obvious that seeing him after seven years was not exactly easy, simply because the memories flooded back into her, and this made the entire reality that she now experienced, all the more difficult. It was no secret, she had been through a great deal since her childhood, particularly just before and after Danielle Jensen's passing.
Today, Yvonne was in the middle of her first year as a university student with a major in the humanities. For the most part she was happy, but when things happened in the world that affected her, she could not hold back the feelings that she had about them, and somehow this was case in point.
She smiled weakly as the angel sat down on the bench next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, and pulling her against his strong chest.
In his arms, she looked up at him, all the while shaking her head sadly as she felt his hand brushing gently through her hair, his fingers somehow coercing the tears to fall down over her face, and blur her vision. It seemed so hard for her to believe that he was there, actually, almost impossible, but there he was sitting beside her. It was really him, the angel who had had such an impact on her life. She was now being held by him, exactly as he had done when she was younger.
Somewhere in all the times she had tried to deal with her emotions, she had a hard time looking people in the eye, especially those who knew of her past, and somewhere in their knowledge of her past, she felt so much shame at them actually knowing to what extent the pain had wounded and scarred her psyche. It was even harder for her to accept that she was not at fault for what had happened, much less that an angel had helped her through it.
She looked up to see that he was still holding her, his eyes closed as though in prayer and somewhere, deep inside of her, she remembered how he had comforted her even now as she relived the desperation of a time gone by, but every time something would happen, she would ponder just how long ago it really had been.
Shamefully, she stared down at her lap until she could feel the soft fingers of the angel probing her face gently to look up at him. After a few moments had passed, she opened her eyes and looked into the eyes of her friend, all the while her eyes almost trying to divert from his piercing gaze.
"You're here?" She finally found the courage to speak. "Why?"
"I always told you that if you needed me, I would be there, and right now, I think you really do need someone," he said gently, but when she did not respond, he watched as she covered her face with her hands. They sat this way for a few moments, but finally he found his voice and continued to speak, his words causing her hands to fall away from her face and show him a hopeless pair of swollen brown eyes. "Yvonne, you really have no reason to feel ashamed."
"But, I do," she could feel the tears as they brimmed from beneath her eyes and she tried without any success at rubbing them away.
Andrew smiled gently at her as he reached over and brushed the tears away, which were now streaming down her cheeks. "You don't, please believe me, sweetheart." When she didn't look up at him, he took his hand and tipped her face up so that she would be looking him in the eyes. "God loves you, Yvonne Hudson, and He wants you to know that abuse and harm to children is not a part of His plan. Not by any means."
"Then why?" She asked, her voice cracking. "Why does it have to happen, and to children?"
"I-I don't know," Andrew shook his head sadly as he continued to rub her face gently with his hand. "It would be much easier for you if I could answer this question, but I think you know deep inside that I don't have the answer to that one. I'm sorry, sweetheart, I really wish I knew."
Yvonne looked over at the newspaper that was now in the garbage. "You know what happened, huh?"
"Yes," he whispered his hand still brushing the persistent tears from away from her eyes, "God knew how devastating this news has been for you to take, so He sent me to help you get through it."
"It hurts. I mean; it's as though the churches don't even care what children have to go through." As she spoke, he could see that the emotions were starting to get the better of her. "Andrew, they don't care, all they concern themselves with is their reputation," Yvonne leaned against him and allowed the tears to fall. "A church is supposed to teach ethics and morals to their congregations, not condone sexually abusing their children. Oh God, why does it all come back every time something like this happens? Why?"
Andrew brushed his hand through her hair as he held her gently in his arms the embrace somehow filling her with the angel's loving assurances. "Shhh, it's OK."
Yvonne shook her head her hands balling up into fists and she started to pound them against his chest as she spoke, the pain emerging not only with each blow, but also with her words. "It's not OK, Andrew, it's not ever going to be OK, at least not until they kick child-abusers out of positions of power, and chances are they won't ever do that. I guess it's always going to be the same story, so long as it doesn't affect those in power, then nothing is going to change. If it was affecting them personally, then they might do something..."
She looked helplessly up at Andrew and the angel could see the deep hurt that was encased in his young friend. As she continued to speak, the rain that was falling got harder and he reached over and grabbed his umbrella. "Come on, let's get you some place warm and dry, and we can discuss this. The rain is getting stronger and you don't need to get wetter and run the risk of getting sick on top of everything else, alright?"
Yvonne nodded, her eyes filled with pain, but after a few moments, she allowed the angel to help her get to her feet and he led her out of the park in the direction of her studio apartment.
-*-*-*-*-
Some three streets over from the park, Father Joshua Owens walked towards the church where he served. As he walked, he realized that he could not get the young woman out of his conscience, yet, he knew that he had a number of more pressing problems. Church attendance was down, the masses were emptier than he could remember from his youth, and now this scandal had darkened the rites of priesthood. Things could not have gotten worse, and if they did, he did not know how.
As he continued to think about the girl from the park, he realized that there was something almost familiar, yet almost eerie about her. He knew her from somewhere, but where specifically, he could not recall.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the large marble building, and as he came through the lobby and entered the sanctuary, he crossed himself as he came down the aisle towards the altar. On one side of the church, he could see that two women were seated and appeared to be in prayer.
Not saying anything, he walked slowly by and at the front of the church; he slowly lowered himself into the seat, his glance eventually coming to rest on the crucifix that adorned the front of the elegant church. Moments passed and his attention diverted and he looked up at the stature of Mother Mary located on one side of the altar.
"Joshua?" A familiar voice emerged and he turned around to see a young girl standing behind him, her eyes a piercing aquamarine color, and nearly the same color as his. She wore a cross necklace which hung down over her denim blue shirt. He turned around, his face lighting up considerably when he saw her. Seconds later, he stood up and approached her.
The girl stood in the aisle, she did not cross herself, and she did not do any of the customary things people do upon entering a Catholic church, she merely stood there, her smile gentle, her eyes filled with empathy as she regarded the young priest.
"What are you doing here, Jess?" He asked the girl.
"I came to see how you were fairing, Joshua," she said smiling weakly as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Why?"
"I saw the news, and I immediately thought of you," Jess said. "You know, you were my best friend in high school, you were always there for me when I was dating Geoff. I mean; Josh, we were always there for each other. Do you think that just because I don't know how to cross myself properly, or that I don't go to church here that I would stop thinking about you the minute something like this happens?"
"I don't know anymore, Jess," he said softly, as he stared down at the stone-like floor of the church.
The girl went over and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Do you remember when you graduated from high school? I was a freshman at the time, I had just gotten out of Jr. High and you were my brother's best friend. I saw you at the house every week, I thought you either were there to say 'hi' to my family or to pig out on my mom's apple custard. You were my best friend, too. I never admitted it; I always thought that the sun rose and set on you, I thought you were the greatest person in the world. Well, you remember that card I gave you when I graduated. It said: 'The sun may not rise and set on you, but I know that God smiles upon you when the sun does rise and set.' Do you remember?"
Joshua nodded. "I remember."
"It's still true, I know that you have given your life for God, and I may not always understand this Catholic stuff, I understand my friends, and I know that this must be devastating for you."
"Two days ago, one of the women in the congregation would not even let me talk to her ten-year-old daughter, and then one of the boys in the Sunday school class snuck out and asked me during the adult class what was going on with the news," he said, but he could feel the tears streaming from beneath his troubled blue eyes. "It's horrible, Jess."
"I know," she said gently as she squeezed his shoulder. "I also realize that it is doubly hard for you because I know that you wouldn't do anything to hurt a fly, you just want to serve God. You protected me from Geoff after he freaked out. I remember; you were still in Seminary and you dropped everything to come and help me."
Joshua nodded slowly. "I remember." As he spoke, he glanced over unconsciously and could see the two women still in prayer. Trying to ignore their presence, he slumped back down in one of the seats. "How can I go on when people don't trust me? The trouble is people see priests doing this on the news…" His voice trailed off and she could see that he was trying with all the will that was inside of him to choke back the tears. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak, his voice filled with emotion. "They stereotype us all into this sort of group and that say that if one priest does something to hurt a child, then that must mean that we are all guilty of hurting kids."
"You know God's truth, Joshua, and I know this seems so hard for you, but people have to hear the truth that not all priests are bad, not all Catholics condone sexual abuse of children, but the church is at a time where it needs leaders, not just people who talk the talk, but who also know how to walk the talk. Maybe that's what God wants you to do," Jess said.
The young priest nodded. "I always wanted to make a difference, but I don't know if I have the courage to do so."
"Then you're going to have to find it," she handed him a pamphlet from the local community center. "Maybe a good place to start would be in a place of this kind. Maybe if you understand where they are coming from, it might help."
"I saw a girl in the park, she looked at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes," Joshua said. "I never thought that someone would be afraid of me, but she looked really scared."
"Go to the community center, Joshua, see what happens, maybe this is your chance to show people that God does work in mysterious ways. Maybe you need to find a way to do away with stereotypes once and for all."
Once his best friend's little sister had left, he thought about what she had said, and after a few moments, he nodded as he covered his face with his hands and rubbed the painful tears from beneath his eyes. Maybe she's right, maybe getting involved in this issue might be the best way to prevent such stereotyping from ever occurring again.
As he looked over at where the two women had been sitting, he realized that they were both gone, but in their place, a newspaper was lying on the seat, and he went over and picked it up. It was dated that month, seven years ago, and as he looked down at the picture that was on the page, the color drained from his face as he recognized the girl from the park. Shaking his head despondently, he sat down and began to read, the color draining from his face as each word shed light on what he had seen in the park.
Abuse Victim Seeks Justice
Yvonne Hudson may look like your average teenage girl, but she carries a tragic story that no child should endure. She survived sexual abuse in the hands of a family friend, and because of her strength, she has become a landmark personality because of her young age and the fact that she found the courage to confront her abuser and win.
The memories for the 12-year-old survivor still haunt her even after the case has been closed, but because of her perseverance, her abuser has been sentenced to twenty-five years in state prison with the possibility for parole after seventeen of those years have been served.
Sighing deeply, the young priest stood up, the paper now drifting to the floor as Jess' words emanated through his conscious. Leaving the article on one of the pews, he got up and went back towards his office, his eyes filling with tears as he closed the door.
By this time, Andrew and Yvonne reached her small one room apartment, and to the angel's relief his young friend seemed to have recovered from her bout of frustration in the park. As soon as she closed the door, she hung her jacket on the rack that was on the back of the door. Once she had taken his coat and hung it on the door, she looked up at him. "Do you want anything? A coke or maybe a tea or perhaps something else?"
Andrew shook his head. "I think we should sit down and talk. It's been a long time."
"Yeah," she said softly as she shrugged her shoulders unconsciously.
"Yvonne?" Andrew said softly thus causing her to look up.
"What? Do you want me to cry on your shoulder again? Or should I try to keep my faith or talk to God?" She could feel the tears once again in her eyes. She shook her head as she looked at him, her voice catching somewhat and she felt shame flushing her cheeks. "I'm sorry…"
"No, you're hurting and angry, but believe me, I do understand, Yvonne," he said as he came over to where she was sitting and sat down next to her. Instead of pulling her into his arms as he was compelled to do, he simply rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. When she looked up, he could see the pain that she still carried even now, seven years after her nightmarish ordeal.
"Do you know what's hard, Andrew?" Yvonne asked weakly as she felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder.
"Tell me," he said softly, his voice gently coaxing the story out of her.
"I'm a freshman in college, and I can't even get involved in a relationship with a guy because I'm so afraid," she looked up at him despondently. "They scare me so much because…"
"…Because you're afraid of being hurt again," Andrew finished for her and instead of just waiting for her to make the first move and seek his comfort, he offered it freely by pulling her into his embrace. "Yvonne, not every person is going to do to you what Rick did."
"I know, but it's so hard, I'm so scared and I don't know why, and then…" her voice trailed off and she tried to catch her breath before she could continue speaking. "…Then people ask me why I'm so scared of guys, or of dating and I'm so ashamed that I can't even tell them the truth. They ask me, Andrew, and none of them really know."
The angel nodded as she continued to speak. "Nobody knows that after everything that happened, I still lie awake at night unable to sleep, but if I did manage to go to sleep, I would sometimes have the most horrible nightmares. Not to mention the fact that I still have to cover myself when I sleep because I'm afraid of being violated again," she paused as she took a deep breath, but after a few minutes, she continued. "I sometimes see this stuff in the newspaper about the priests molesting children, and when it does I can't for the life of me explain why it hurts so much, or even why it came back. All I know, when I see these kids, and what they have endured, I just…" As her voice trailed off, she could once again feel the tears as they continued to stream from beneath her eyes and she shook her head as she felt her hands pressed against the lapels of the angel's lightweight jacket. Her face now pressed against his chest, the words muffled by her emotional outburst.
What came next, instead of him listening to her as she continued to speak, he could hear the muffled sobs that wracked the young woman's body. Andrew reached over and with his hands; he gently stroked her hair. "Just cry, sweetheart," he whispered gently and held her tightly as she wept.
Once she had cried herself dry, she looked up at him apologetically when she saw the stream of moistness on his jacket. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," she whispered as she self-consciously backed away from him.
"Hey, it's OK, that's why I'm here," he said gently and he reached over and wiped the last of her tears away. "Do you feel any better?"
"A little, but what am I supposed to do? I mean; I can't just do nothing," Yvonne whispered softly, her voice filled with sadness.
Andrew smiled gently at her, his eyes filled with understanding. "Yvonne, maybe you are supposed to let people know what you have been through, especially now, at this time. A person who is a victim of this kind of thing understands the other side of the story much better than someone who is not affected by the events that you have read about in the paper or seen in the news."
"I'm scared, I'm so ashamed. That's why I left that town after Frank and Dory left and moved to California. I was 18, and they figured that I would be OK without them. They helped me get set up here and then they left, but they both knew that I needed to get away from that town."
"No matter how far away you run, Yvonne, you will not succeed in completely running away from the past. The truth is, I'm here because you will have to face the past one more time and once you do that, then you will find the healing that you need."
She nodded. "I figured as much when I saw you in the park. Part of me wanted to hug you, and part of me wanted to hide my face in shame."
"You know I told you that you had no reason to feel shame, Yvonne. I will tell you this, you must never hide your face from me, because I care for you more than you realize." As he spoke, he pulled a CD from his pocket and handed it to her. "I always knew that you love music, so here is a song I would like for you to listen to the words, OK?"
Yvonne nodded as she accepted the CD and looked down at the cover. The song title was 'I'm Moving On' and she immediately went and put it in the CD player. Moments later, the room was filled with music.
I've dealt with my ghosts
And I've faced all my demons
Finally content with the past I regret
I found you find strength
In your moments of weakness
But one side of peace with myself
I've been burdened with blame
Trapped in the past for too long
I'm moving on.
I've lived in this place
And I know all the faces
Each one is different
But they're always the same
They mean me no harm
But it's time that I face it
They will never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up
Where I don't belong
I'm moving on.
I'm moving on
At last I can see
Life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know
There's no guarantees
But, I'm not alone
There comes a time
In everyone's life
When all you can see
Are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind
That those days are gone
I've sold what I could
And packed what I couldn't
Stopped to feel love
On my way out of town
I've loved like I should
But lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me
Somewhere down this road
I'm moving on…I'm moving on…I'm moving on.
As the music faded, Yvonne was staring down at her lap, her face completely streaked with tears. "That's beautiful," she whispered through her tears, "but I haven't, you know?"
"I know, and I realize how hard it is to remember the events that brought you to this point. I don't know why they happened, but I do know that God has not abandoned you, He is always with you, Yvonne, you're not alone, not ever." Andrew said gently as he looked down at the young woman he held in his arms.
"I felt it, for so long, I thought…I thought if I ran from the past, that I could outrun it, that I could forget what happened to me," she could feel fresh tears streaming from beneath her eyes. "Andrew, are you going to stay, or are you going to just deliver me this CD and then leave again?"
He took her chin his hand and tipped it up so that she was looking into his gentle green eyes. "I'm not going to leave you, God knows that you're afraid, but He wants you to know that you have no reason to be."
Yvonne nodded numbly, and without even thinking, she collapsed into his arms and within seconds, she had drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion now getting the better of her.
A few moments after she had fallen asleep, Andrew picked her up in his arms, and carried her across the room to the bed in the corner. As he laid her on the bed, he looked down at her face, all the while brushing a lock of her hair out from in front of her now closed eyes. "You're not ever alone, Yvonne," he whispered as he leaned down, and kissed her forehead gently. As he straightened out, he settled himself on the nearby chair, and spent the next few hours watching over her.
-*-*-*-*-
Joshua was nervous when he arrived at the community center some four hours later. Jess had been right, he knew this, but he was still nervous. Instead of dressing in his official like clothing, he wore the simplest of his attire. His discomfort was blatantly obvious, but when he saw television cameras lining the street in front of the building, he backed away; the fear that was encasing him was completely overwhelming. He took a deep breath and by the time he reached the parking lot, he could hear someone's voice calling out to him and he stopped.
"Hello," the woman's voice emerged, thus causing him to glance up and see a pretty auburn headed woman standing next to a car that was parked there. She had just gotten out of a red Cadillac convertible and was leaning over in order to retrieve a stack of files. As she tried to juggle them, he realized that she probably would end up losing the entire stack. "Could I convince you to help me a little with this stuff? I seem to be having a wee bit of a balance problem here."
"Sure," he said as he came over and took half the folders from off the stack and when she had managed with the folders she carried, he spoke further. "It's OK now?"
"Yes, thank you," the woman said, her voice emerging a lovely Irish baroque and her eyes widened slightly when she recognized him. "Father Owens, I was at Mass last Sunday, you have a wonderful eloquence with your speaking," she smiled as she spoke. "Your sermon really moved me."
"T-thank you," he smiled, but she could see that he had the discomfort of a schoolboy, but he began to follow her towards the door that would lead them both into the back sectors of the large white marble building.
"My name is Monica, by the way, and I help coordinate public awareness groups here at the center," she said as she reached into her pocket and began to fumble for her keys. Once she had them, she unlocked the door and managed to pull it open and once the two of them were inside he managed to find his voice, it initially emerging in a squeak.
"I was," his voice was small, so he cleared his throat and tried to start speaking again. "I was interested in getting involved in a public awareness group here," he said honestly. "The truth is, because of all the horrid things that have been in the news, I thought it would be a good idea for me to find out what I can about it. I guess it's sort of like being armed with the truth or something."
"It's a wonderful thing to get involved, but it's even more special when someone tries to see how it is for the other side, so to speak," Monica said. "Come with me, we'll go through the main office to get into the main part of the center, I don't think you really want to be confronted with the media right now."
"They are here about the sexual abuse cases, aren't they?" He asked weakly.
Monica nodded numbly. "One of the victims committed suicide last night and he was a boy in counseling here. He had been molested by one of the priests upstate, and well, you can probably imagine how hard that must have been."
"I can't," Joshua said, his words caught in his throat. "I grew up in a nice home, the priests that I knew growing up were nice guys, they never laid a finger on me, and they were who inspired me to go into the ministry." He shook his head.
"You're not at fault for what happened, Father Owens, you're not a stereotype in all of this, you're a man, and one who gave his life to God," Monica said softly. "Your willingness to understand these kids speaks highly of you, not as a man of the cloth, but as an individual, and as one of God's children."
He nodded. "My friend Jess convinced me to come here, but I don't know how much good it was going to do."
"Maybe a lot," Monica smiled as they left the files in the office and made their way down the hall in the direction of the main lobby of the center.
As they came out, there were a number of reporters standing as though vultures about to dive-bomb a pile of garbage in search for meat. When they spotted the young priest, they room went completely silent. As he heard people mumbling things like 'what is he doing here?' and 'get the kids out of here', he almost burst into tears.
After a few moments of whispering passed by, a woman with a warm alto voice spoke, and she carried what appeared to be a stenographer's notebook and a ballpoint pen. Her kindly brown eyes sought his and she offered him a cordial smile. When the whispering continued, she cleared her throat and spoke up. "Isn't this nice, someone from the clergy has come here to offer their help during this difficult time?"
When the other reporters were struck by her words, they quietly dispersed and she approached where Joshua and Monica were standing. "Father Owens," she smiled as she recognized him. "My name is Tess," she smiled as she extended her hand to him.
"Hello, Tess," he said smiling weakly. "I didn't mean to open a can of worms by coming here."
"No, baby you didn't," she said all the while, her smile could have lit up the darkest of skies. "I am here from the 'Journal of Children's Rights' and I would love to get your thoughts about what has been happening here in town."
"I-I don't know what to say," he said softly. "The truth is, I don't even know why I came. I don't think I belong here. People don't want to understand, they just want to condemn and judge me, because of what I chose to do with my life."
"We're not judging you," Tess said smiling gently at him as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "We both know that you're here because you care about this community, and you don't want ignorance to rule the day."
Joshua nodded and when he found so much truth in Tess' words, he spoke. "People stare at me, and maybe in that regard, I have something in common with the children who were abused, but I do know one thing is certain, I would rather die than to bring harm to a child.
"We know, and God knows too," Monica said gently. "God knows everything we do, when we do it, where and why, He knows it all, but people sometimes put their emotions ahead of their understanding. By being here, you can help show people that stereotypes will only lead to hate, and that is what leads to abuse. Don't you see; your presence here could make all the difference in the world?"
Joshua thought about her words, "yeah, I see what you're saying, so what can I do? I want people to not be afraid of me, or afraid of allowing me to talk to their children."
"Trust takes time to build, baby," Tess said smiling gently. "But, keep in mind, it is that way with everyone, not just with children and priests, but it is that way with grown-ups as well as survivors." As she spoke, she pointed to the door leading outside. When Joshua looked up, he saw the young woman from the park, as well as a blonde headed man walking into the center.
"I know her," he mumbled. "I've seen her around town before."
"Her name is Yvonne Hudson," Tess said softly, "and she's a sexual abuse survivor."
The young priest's throat was dry when he made eye contact with the young woman now standing in the lobby.
"Andrew, please you've got to get me out of here," Yvonne whispered once she felt the eyes of the priest on her. She backed towards the door, her fear now starting to overwhelm her. She shook her head as she watched Joshua Owens stand up and start to make his way in the direction where she now stood with the Angel of Death.
"You remember what I said back at your apartment about running?" Andrew said sternly as he looked at his friend. "You're strong, Yvonne, I know you, now maybe this meeting will do you as much good as it could do him."
"You're taking his side…"
"I don't take sides, but have you stopped to consider that maybe you and he are on the same side?" Andrew asked.
Yvonne faltered, but she looked into the eyes of the angel. "You wouldn't lead me into danger, Andrew, I trust you, but this is hard for me to face him."
"No, I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you, Yvonne," he said gently as he took her hand and led her through the lobby. "But, the Father does know what He's doing, so this isn't about trusting me, it's about trusting Him."
The young woman nodded, but when they reached the young priest, Yvonne managed to glance up, but only briefly. After a few moments, her gaze returned to the floor and it was obvious, not only to Andrew, but also to Joshua that the young woman would have opted to be anywhere than where she was at that moment.
Joshua fidgeted for some moments, and somewhere, he managed to find his voice. "Hello."
"Hi," Yvonne's voice emerged, but it was soft and filled with insecurity.
"I'm, uh, my name is Joshua," he said deciding to leave all the formalities at the door.
"Yvonne," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, and she backed slowly away from him, her nervousness completely evident. She would have completely backed away from him if Andrew had not been standing behind her and had rested his hands gently on her shoulders. She attempted to swallow the lump that seemed to have unconsciously lodged itself in the back of her throat, but she looked up and made brief eye contact with the priest.
"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" Joshua asked.
Yvonne, feeling honesty enveloping her, nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it."
Joshua nodded. "You know, I do understand."
She shook her head. "You can't possibly."
Joshua could sense the anger in her words, and he knew that he might have inadvertently offended her. "I don't mean that, Yvonne, I mean, I know about what it feels like to have lost hope in society and in oneself." His eyes were steady as they regarded her.
Yvonne looked back at Andrew, the angel still had his hand on her shoulder, but he spoke, his voice filled with empathy. "Just talk to him, you'll find you share more in common than you believe."
She looked back at Joshua and spoke. "You lost faith in yourself, why?"
"I don't know why, I suddenly woke up one day and started wondering what I was doing," he said softly. "I wondered why things happen and what I was doing about all of it. I guess that's why I'm here now."
"I don't know why I'm here," she offered meekly. "I don't know if I can believe for a moment that you could understand me."
"Why?"
Yvonne shook her head, but no words emerged.
"Because I'm a priest, and you've seen the news," Joshua said softly. He could read between the lines and he looked at her. "Stereotyping is only going to make things worse. People will never be able to trust each other unless they look beyond it and see the person beneath that."
Yvonne looked frightened as his voice raised, but she looked at him, her eyes speaking volumes. "You think it's easy for me to look beyond the stereotypes? Do you think I can just hide from my past? Well, I can't, every time something like this happens, the nightmares come back, the world that seems so nice and pretty is destroyed. You tell me that I should let go of stereotypes, how dare you? You don't know me, you probably could care less, and…" her voice trailed and she backed away from him, her eyes filled with anger as she regarded him. "You have no right to judge me. Go look in the mirror before you start passing judgment."
With that she turned on her heels and ran out of the room leaving Joshua staring after her in open-mouth astonishment. Around them, a number of people cheered, thus leaving the young man staring at Andrew with unhidden astonishment. Instead of speaking, the Angel of Death took a deep breath and went after his friend, thus leaving Joshua alone and in the capable hands of Monica and Tess.
-*-*-*-*-
Outside on the parking lot, Yvonne collapsed to the ground as the tears began to stream down her cheeks once again. Andrew came over to her and put his arms around her and held her.
This time, she pushed away from him, her eyes filled with hurt. "Why did you want me to talk to him? He only started going off on me about stereotypes. Andrew, you're supposed to be my friend."
"I am your friend, Yvonne, but please, just listen to me," Andrew looked deeply into the eyes of the young woman. "Was a priest the person that abused you?"
She shook her head. "No, but…"
Andrew rested his finger over her lips and looked at her. "I know that this is hard for you, but look at how Joshua feels. He's a few years older than you, and this is all affecting him too. You both can relate to each other, not because you've been abused and he wasn't, but because there's simply something that connects the two of you to one another. Remember Danielle, and how she made a mistake, but yet, she came to you and you forgave her? This was not because she had hurt you, but because somewhere deep in your heart; you knew that she needed forgiveness as much as you did. She needed her peace, Yvonne, just like you need your peace right now at this very moment. It doesn't matter if you're looking into the eyes of a priest, or a plumber, what matters is that you see him as a person, and in the same way you did when you looked into the eyes of Danielle."
Yvonne could feel the tears stinging her eyes when she heard him speak of her best friend. The memories flooded back to her when she remembered how much Danielle had sacrificed for her. She glanced over and could see that Joshua was coming out of the building, his head was down, and she looked at Andrew. "He's going to hate me."
Andrew shook his head, but he handed her an aged newspaper. She looked down at the writing all the while remembering what was in the paper. She nervously began to roll the paper around in her hand, but dejectedly walked away from Andrew and followed the young priest across the parking lot.
She continued to follow him, but when she reached the curb, she could see that Joshua was now walking slowly across the street, but what he did not see was that a man in a silver car was barreling down the street towards the priest's unsuspecting back at breakneck speed.
"Joshua, look out!" Yvonne screamed as loud as she could, but when he turned around with surprise in his eyes, she ran towards him and pushed him as hard as she could out of the way as the car rammed unmercifully against her body, and she flew over the windshield and landed on the hard concrete. Within seconds, the man driving the car had sped off.
"Yvonne! No!" Andrew cried out with agony in his voice, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was get Joshua to get up off the ground and stare down at the young woman who lay in a puddle of blood on the side of the street.
She saved my life, where the only thoughts going through the young man's conscious, and when he felt the tears burning his eyes, he realized what it was she had just done for him.
-*-*-*-*-
Joshua broke out of his reverie and ran out into the street and when he reached her, he got down on the ground next to where she lay. Instead of leaving her on the street as he figured he should have done, he tried to gently pull her broken body back onto the curb before she would get hit by yet another of the oncoming cars.
He took a deep breath as he looked up and could see that Andrew was now right next to the young woman, his green eyes filled with the utmost sadness. "S-she saved my life," Joshua whispered weakly as he held Yvonne on his lap. He shook his head desperately as he looked down at her unmoving body.
"Yes, Joshua, she did," Andrew said softly, the voice of the angel causing Joshua to look up and instead of seeing Andrew being dressed casually as he had been at the center, the angel was now dressed officially in a beige suit and tie.
"Y-you're an angel?" Joshua asked weakly as Andrew crouched down next to them, his hand brushing gently through Yvonne's blood-soaked hair. When the angel nodded, Joshua tried to cross himself, but with Yvonne in his arms, he thought better of it and just looked at Andrew helplessly.
"Yes, my name is Andrew, and was sent once before to Yvonne, back when she was twelve-years-old, and living with abuse," Andrew said softly as he stroked her face gently. "You have to get her help, now, if you don't she will die."
Joshua looked at the angel. "I don't want to leave her," he said softly, but nodded numbly.
"I'll stay with her, but you need to get her an ambulance," Andrew said gently.
The priest nodded and he slowly got up off the ground, slowly shifting Yvonne so that her head rested on Andrew's lap. Once he was on his feet, he ran as fast as he could back to the community center.
Once inside, he found a telephone and called the emergency number. After reporting what had happened, he returned outside to the young woman who had saved his life.
"T-they're on the way," Joshua said as he sat down on the ground next to her once again.
Andrew looked at Joshua. "You might try talking to her, Joshua. It is my experience that it does help."
Joshua nodded and closed his eyes. "Yvonne, forgive me, please, I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you. You see; ever since this story came out, I have tried to make heads or tails of it. I have wanted to try and understand what was happening to me and why I felt guilt for something that I had not done."
He paused briefly before he was able to continue speaking. "You see, I was probably just as shocked and saddened by all of these things as you were." He took a staggering breath and looked down at the face of the young woman. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you, I suppose if anything, I just wanted to find some sort of reason for all this happening. You're not at fault Yvonne."
In the distance, both Joshua and Andrew could hear the approaching ambulance and the angel came over and rested a hand on the shoulder of the younger man. "They will get her to the hospital."
"Why did she do this, Andrew, why did she push me out of the way?" He asked weakly as the ambulance pulled up next to where they were sitting and one of the paramedics got out.
"Because, one thing Yvonne could not fathom would be someone else to suffer in any way, that's why she felt so strongly about this that she pushed you out of the way," Andrew said softly. "She's a remarkable person, Joshua."
"I'm starting to see that," he said, but when one of the paramedics looked at him, he shrugged his shoulders and said nothing further.
Once Yvonne had been loaded into the ambulance, Joshua climbed in beside her.
On the street, Monica and Tess stood watching the scene, the younger of the two angels staring at the ambulance once the sirens started up and it had disappeared in the distance. "Tess, what just happened?" Monica asked.
"A man used his free will and upset the celestial apple cart, Miss Wings, now you will stay here and help Joshua, and I am to go and see about someone else."
"The man in the car?" Monica asked.
"His name is Brad Johnson, and his little brother was the boy Adam took home last night, the suicide case. Brad loved his brother, that's why it was so hard for him, but his hate is something that needs to be changed, and so the Father wants me to go find him, and try to help him find peace."
"That means, turning himself in, doesn't it?" Monica asked.
Tess nodded, "yes, now that he has tried to kill Joshua, chances are he's going to keep running until someone says that he needs to stop."
About four blocks from where he had hit the girl, Brad finally managed to stop driving and pulled his car to the side of the road. Why did that girl push that priest out of the way? The questions racked havoc on his mind, and he looked into the rearview mirror as tears caught in his eyes. I know what I did was wrong, he thought sadly to himself, but Patrick had been his little brother, and he was the one who should have protected him.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly as he stuck the key in the ignition, turned it, and listened as the small car roared to life. He sat for some moments with only the motor idling, all the while; all he could hear were these specific sounds as they resonated around him.
Seconds passed and he literally jumped out of his skin when someone had tapped on his window. He glanced over and could see that a woman with mahogany colored skin was standing next to the passenger side window, a warm smile on her face and a duffle bag hanging loosely over her shoulder. He leaned over and rolled down the window before speaking to her.
"Yeah?" He looked at her somewhat hesitantly, there was an overwhelming sense of fear in his eyes, but when his eyes met her own, all he saw was a look of empathy, and this, if anything, caused him to calm down, if but only slightly.
"Hello there," she said all the while smiling. "My name is Tess, and I was wondering if you were heading to Junction today and if I might get a ride with you. My car seems to have taken ill and chances are I won't be able to get anywhere with it."
"Sure, hop in," he said nonchalantly, but somewhere inside him, he could not deny that he was glad for the company, even if it was only for the thirty minute trek two towns over. If anything, he figured after a conversation with a stranger would possibly get his mind off of what had happened with the girl back at the street adjacent to the community center.
Tess opened the door and climbed into the passenger side and she looked at him. "It's a nice day, don't you think?" She asked once she had fastened her seatbelt, he shifted the car into gear and drove out onto the street.
"I didn't really notice," he mumbled under his breath, but continued speaking as a means to pacify Tess. "I guess I haven't really paid much attention to anything lately, if you want to know the truth."
"That's a pity," Tess offered with a warm smile. "It's such a beautiful day, a wonderful gift from God."
Brad swallowed the lump that unconsciously formed in his throat, but instead of speaking, he simply offered a curt nod.
Tess accepted his silence as an indication of a conversation that had never really gotten off the ground. After a few moments, when he did not speak, she simply nodded and looked out the window.
Brad continued to drive in the direction of Junction, all the while, in the back of his mind, he wondered about the girl he had brought harm to. He could not shake what he had done to her from his conscious and now he had this strange woman seated next to him.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally decided to break the silence, and spoke. "I grew up in Junction," he offered more to himself than to her.
"I have been there only once, but really liked it," Tess offered freely. "There is something so warm and caring about small towns. People seem to take that kind of thing for granted in the big cities."
Brad looked at her only briefly, his eyes clouding over. "Sometimes the towns that are as small as Junction are a curse."
The abrupt response was hardly what the angel expected, but when she looked at him, she could see so much anger in him that she opted not to respond. What is it about him, Father that makes him so angry? She prayed silently to herself.
After a few moments, instead of speaking to the angry young man, Tess closed her eyes as the Father's loving answer resonated her being.
The rest of the drive passed in silence.
-*-*-*-*-
As the ambulance carrying Yvonne arrived at the hospital, Joshua was beside himself with worry. She saved my life, this one thought seemed to completely encompass his conscious and at this precise instant, he was at a loss as to what it was he was supposed to do.
He followed the gurney with Yvonne's unconscious body in through the doors, but after a few moments, a nurse came over to him. "I'm sorry, Father, but you can't come into the emergency room right now. The doctors are doing whatever they can for your friend, and we'll let you know as soon as there is any news about her condition. Why don't you take a seat in the waiting area? We'll send someone with any information as soon as we know something."
Joshua nodded and walked with weighted steps in the direction of the large open space. He sat down in a chair, his shoulders slumped and his head down, but he remained there for some time staring at the lines along the tiled floor, his eyes filled with sadness.
Eventually, he glanced up and could see a small chapel off to one side of the waiting room. He slowly got to his feet and he walked towards it, his eyes were filled with tears as he opened the heavy wooden door and came inside the empty room.
He walked down the aisle to the front of the room where he sadly lowered himself into a seat, his hands folded as he looked around. This was a very simple hospital chapel; the blinds were lowered, giving it a more somber impression. Somehow, even in the darkness, he felt a strange sense of comfort in this place.
In the front, he could see that there was a Bible opened and he stood up and approached it, his hand touching the smooth surface of the thin pages. As he beheld the Psalm that was printed on the page before him, tears sprang to his eyes as he began to read: God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble… As the tears streamed from beneath his eyes, he turned from the large black covered book and returned to his seat, the forty-sixth Psalm somehow echoing in his mind.
Sighing sadly, he glanced skyward. "Father, please help me," he began, his voice trembling. "I am so scared."
As he continued to speak, his prayers filled with despondency, he did not notice that the door had opened and Monica had come into the chapel. She stood in the back of the room and listened to the words of the young priest, and she could feel the sadness enveloping her when she heard the agonizing words emerging from him. As she looked around the room, she could feel the sedateness of the room literally enveloping her, and instead of standing there and staring at him, she walked slowly up the aisle until she reached the place where he was seated. She stood next to the row of seats for a few seconds and merely listened as he continued to pray.
"I know I should keep the faith, that when made my vow to you to be your servant, I just had no idea that something like this would even happen, and now…Now a girl lies in a coma upstairs, and it's all because of me…" His voice trailed off and he was so immersed in his hopelessness that he didn't notice that Monica had taken the opportunity to sit down next to him. "What will I do if that girl dies?" He asked the stillness. "I am so scared of what I will do now that I have to answer for what has happened to her."
"God knows you're afraid, Joshua, He knows that you feel at fault for what happened today, but you are not the one who is responsible," Monica said softly, thus causing him to look up, his eyes filled with sadness, but instead of continuing to pray, he licked his dry lips as he addressed her.
"Hello Monica," he whispered as he remembered the conversation he had had with her back at the community center. She had been so understanding as well as emphatic when she had spoken to him. He smiled weakly as he recalled how nice and unassuming she was, there was an uncanny gentleness of faith that seemed to envelope her and this seemed to emanate her through a warm and kind disposition. "I suppose you're here because you heard all about what happened this afternoon." He paused as he looked at her. "Monica, I didn't see you come outside, but it was horrible. I turned around after she called my name, and…" his voice trailed.
"…You saw her get hit by the car," Monica finished for him and when he nodded, she continued to speak, her voice soft. "Joshua, I really think you should go to the police and tell them what you saw, it might help this tragedy find some sense of closure. You know that Yvonne was a victim of a hit and run accident. Only you can help her find justice since you were the only one who saw the accident actually happen."
"H-how do you know that?" He asked.
Monica smiled weakly and offered him a gentle nod. "I was in the center when you came in to call for the ambulance. You were pretty upset; so naturally, I followed you back outside. I suppose you didn't see me because you were a wee bit upset. Would you like to talk about what happened?" She offered, and smiled weakly. "Some people have said that I am a good listener."
"What's there to talk about?" He asked weakly. "I mean; so many people come to me for advice, and spiritual direction, but I don't know if I am capable of even giving it anymore. Monica, I don't know what there is left for me to talk about or to do. All I know is that it should have been me in the emergency room in a coma, I should have been the one that man hit, not her."
"No, it shouldn't Joshua," Monica said gently. "Sometimes things like this happen, but it doesn't mean that God would exchange your life for someone else's." She rested her hand on his slumped shoulder. "I know that you have a hard time believing this, but Yvonne did what she did because she cares, and right now, I think you know that what she needs is for her friends to stand by and pray for her. She needs to know that what she has done has made a difference. She needs to know that her life is of so much worth and significance, but instead of realizing this, she saw the value of yours, which is why she did what she did."
"Why did she? I got angry with her, I told her that she was stereotyping me," Joshua said. "I'm supposed to be a man of God, Monica, I should not have gotten angry with her."
"You're also a child of God, Joshua, capable of making errors in judgment, capable of misinterpreting others," Monica said softly as she took a deep breath. "You made a choice, but don't run yourself down because of this, you simply made an err in judgment, nothing more."
"But, my err in judgment may have caused the death of a young woman," he said softly.
"Yvonne pushed you out of the way for a reason, Joshua, and maybe this was her way of saying, 'I'm sorry I hurt you, it was not my intention to downgrade your pain for mine'. She knows that you are hurting and that you need to understand that what both you and she have suffered from are linked, simply because they are stemmed from the same things."
"What should I say to her?" Joshua asked softly. "I wanted her to know how I felt."
"You put your words into her mouth, Joshua," Monica said gently. "You told her that she stereotyped priests, and maybe she did, but you forgot to try and understand why she did. To forget that she was sexually abused is not something that a victim can easily do. Many abuse victims are in therapy for months, sometimes years after their experience, some never fully recovering and some tragically becoming abusers themselves. They have a hard time getting into relationships, and they feel a sense of incompleteness because of how damaging this form of abuse can be. What you need to try and do is to see Yvonne, not as a victim, but as a survivor. Her pain is deep, yes, but her heart is very genuine and she really is trying to let go of all stereotypes. Will you help her do so? You and you alone hold the key to helping her find peace and healing."
Joshua nodded as he listened to her words. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with her. I didn't want to; it just suddenly happened."
"She knows," Monica said as she patted his shoulder gently.
"Do you know how she's doing?" Joshua asked softly.
"Well, as you probably know, Yvonne is in a coma right now, but I think she's going to come out of it soon. She needs to have her friends with her, and that should make all the difference in the world with regard to her recovery, however this is going to be painful for her, and she doesn't have a lot of friends around to help with it."
"I'm not her friend, Monica, a friend would not have put her there," Joshua said softly and got up to leave the room, but when he felt her hand reaching out and touching his, he turned back around to face her.
"Remember, Joshua Owens, a friend is one who would lay down their life for another. Yvonne has demonstrated that she is your friend, and now you must honor that friendship by doing nothing less than demonstrating the same for her."
"She's going to come out of it?" He asked softly.
"Yes," Monica said as she began to glow. "The Father will help her body heal, and He has chosen you to help her spirit find the healing it needs."
"H-how?" He asked weakly, but he might as well have spoken to the wall, because Monica had disappeared.
Realizing this, he started to look around the room, his eyes blurred by his tears. The news that Monica was an angel seemed not to have an overwhelming affect on him; he could only remember her words. He stood up and glanced skyward as he began to speak. "Father, I am at your disposal, please tell me what it is I need to do. Please, help me find the answers I need." As he stopped speaking, he closed his eyes. "Thank you for sending me an angel like Monica to guide me."
-*-*-*-*-
Andrew remained with Yvonne throughout the admittance process and until she eventually was transported to the Intensive Care. Her condition did not change and the Angel of Death thought his heart would break when he was once again sent to her, and he saw her for the first time since she had been admitted.
He stood next to her bed, his eyes brimming with tears as he glanced skyward. "Father, please, don't ask me to bring her Home, please, let her live."
Moments ticked by, but to the misery filled angel, that felt like hours when the Father finally told him what He wanted him to do. With tears still in his eyes, he looked down at his friend and assignment. "Yvonne, I'm so sorry all of this has happened to you."
As he spoke, he could still feel the tears brimming from beneath his eyes and streaming down his cheeks, thus leaving a streak of moistness in its wake. Rather than pay any attention to his disheveled appearance, he brushed a gentle hand across her cheek, his fingertips brushing along the white gauze that covered one side of her face. With his other hand he reached over and touched the side of her face where some of the skin was exposed and glanced up as the walls vanished from around them, leaving the angel and the young woman in a valley filled with flowers.
Yvonne reached up and touched her face, and after a few moments, she glanced around and could see that he was standing a few paces away from her. His eyes were gentle as he regarded her, but she could still see the tears that were in his eyes as the sun shone down on both of them. "Andrew, w-where am I?" She finally asked as she took a tentative step closer to him.
"You were hit by a car, Yvonne; you saved Joshua's life," he said softly as she reached where he was standing.
"Is this real?" She asked softly all the while looking around the meadow with wide eyes. After a few moments, she looked down at herself and could see that she was a wearing a floral print dress. She touched the fabric of the dress she wore, but looked at him and waited for an answer.
"Yes, it is," he said gently.
"Why am I here?" She asked as her lips began to tremble and she looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Hasn't God put me through enough?"
"Oh Yvonne," Andrew whispered softly. "Do you honestly believe that God would put you on Earth to punish you?" He gently brushed her tears from her eyes. "Is that why the past is so hard for you to take, because you feel as though God is somehow using it as a means to punish you for past mistakes?"
She nodded meekly as she looked at him. "I don't know what to think and I'm afraid to tell you how I feel right now, how afraid of Him I am."
"I know you're frightened, but you have no reason to be," he said as he rested his hand on her shoulder and helped her to sit down on the soft grass. Once they were both comfortable, Andrew looked at her, his eyes earnest. "Yvonne, what happened today was a man used his free-will to try to hurt someone because he was hurting. Instead of hurting Joshua, he hurt you."
She nodded, but stared at the ground. "He wanted to kill Joshua, didn't he? That was his motive, right?"
"Yes, but it was you who changed everything, Yvonne," he said softly, his hand still on her shoulder, and she reached up and held his hand there. She eventually looked into his eyes and when she saw the tears there, she reached her free hand out and touched his face.
"Y-you're crying, why?" Yvonne withdrew her hand, and waited for him to say something.
"You're my friend, Yvonne and although I was sent to you years ago to help you, I've been sent to you again," he smiled weakly at her as he shrugged his shoulders. "I know that you're scared, and my words somehow seem so hollow. I didn't know that this was going to happen to you."
"You couldn't have known," she looked up at him.
"No, I couldn't have."
She shook her head slowly "Andrew, what does God want me to do?"
"You've already done what the Father has hoped you would do, Yvonne, you put another person ahead of yourself, it's a beautiful token of friendship. Yet, now it is time for you to help two other people find their peace as well," he smiled gently at her.
"Is that what you say when someone is dying?" She asked weakly. "Is that why you came back, because I'm dying?"
"No, you won't die, sweetheart, not yet," he said gently and she could see the utter relief that shadowed his handsome face.
She nodded. "I used to think about the day I die. I would wonder what God is like, if He gave good hugs, or if He really understood me."
"He does understand you, Yvonne, probably much more than you realize," Andrew said softly.
"I guess that sounds really stupid from where you're sitting," she whispered as she looked down at the ground. "I mean; to listen to me talk about dying."
"No, it's not stupid at all, just tell me."
"Sometimes, I would remember when I was a little girl, it was back before we met, I mean; I would go see my grandparents every summer, and funny the children there were just as nasty and mean-spirited as they were at home. My mother used to ask me what I was doing that made the others treat me so badly. She always implied that it was my fault that I had done something wrong." Yvonne said softly as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Why would she ask you that?"
"I was kind of hoping you could tell me," she said softly as she picked up a blade of grass and ran it between her fingers.
He shook his head. "Sometimes, human behavior is even a mystery to me."
She smiled slightly as she looked down at her hands. "Andrew did I ever tell you that I saw an angel when I was a little girl?"
"No, you didn't."
"You kind of remind me of him, I mean; he was so beautiful, and kind. I had gotten very sick one night, and my grandfather had to take me to the hospital. I remember not being able to breath, the asthma was terrible, and I thought I was going to die. Anyway, when we got there, they took me into this white room, and I looked around and could see that there was someone with me. I thought he was a doctor because he was dressed in white, but he said nothing to me, he just sat by my bed. All I remembered was that there was something really special about him; he helped me to not to be afraid. I never told anyone about him and maybe that's why I didn't talk to him, I was afraid that they would all think I was crazy for seeing someone that they couldn't. Anyway, I just looked at him, stared into his eyes, and knew that whatever would happen, I had no reason to be afraid."
"That's why God sends angels, Yvonne," he said gently.
"But where was my angel when I was abused?" She whispered softly.
He reached over and brushed the tears from beneath her eyes. "He was right here."
Yvonne nodded apologetically. "I sometimes forget that you were there, that you had always been there with me through it all, like you were with Danielle, and her parents, and…"
"You don't ever forget, Yvonne, and you're not supposed to. Forgive and forget is an illusion, you forgive, because God helps to find forgiveness, but you don't forget, you can't. You find a way to live with the events in your life and you discover a part of yourself that you may not have known before."
"Sometimes, I wish I could forget," she shook her head.
"I know you do, but through your story, you've inspired people. Not just because it happened seven years ago, but did you know that Joshua Owens went to the community center to help after he read your story this morning?" Andrew smiled at his friend. "You have all the power you need, and you know what? As long as you trust that God will see you through, He will be there with you, and he will give you what you need."
Yvonne nodded as she looked down at the ground. "I had forgotten so much about the past, not the bad stuff, but the good, the angel, and then all at once, I remembered what happened to me and how I was suddenly able to recall the day, and the moment. It was as if I was trying to find a piece of my childhood through those memories. It was comforting to me, that my life wasn't just the bad parts, but that there was something beautiful there too." She looked down at her lap. "People are always telling me to 'look on the bright side' and oddly enough, I did try, but how can I when I keep seeing injustice? How can I when I am still crying inside and it's like an open wound, that every time something else happens, it starts to bleed again?"
Andrew wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his embrace, her head coming to rest against his chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, just savoring the feel of having him hold her. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "You will heal, Yvonne."
"When?" She whimpered. "Andrew, what more is going to happen to me before I do?" She asked softly.
"I don't know, but I do know that God will help you, I think you know that," he said gently.
Instead of speaking, their embrace loosened and she looked up at him as she pulled her knees up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She looked into the eyes of the angel uncertain of what it was she should say next.
Andrew smiled gently at his young friend and after a few moments, he spoke. "It's time to go back."
Yvonne looked at him. "What's going to happen to me, Andrew?"
"You will have to go through a certain amount of rehabilitation, Yvonne," he said softly.
"You mean, physical therapy?" She asked and he nodded. "Oh God, why did this happen to me?"
"You chose to save a man's life, Yvonne," was all Andrew could say as the meadow disappeared and they were once more in her hospital room. "Now, you will have to do what you can to salvage your own."
It was some hours later that Joshua managed to gain access to Yvonne's room and as he entered the room and saw her for the first time, the color faded from his already pale face. He approached the bed, his hands clasped together as he looked down at her. The first thing he noticed was that her face was covered with a white gauze, and he guessed that she must have sustained a concussion as well as possibly sustaining a number of other internal injuries.
He took a deep breath as he sat down in the empty chair that was situated next to the bed. "Oh Father," he whispered under his breath as he reached over and brushed a small strand of Yvonne's hair that had peeked out from beneath the gauze that covered her face.