Gabriel was missing. I looked for him in all of his usual places. By the back door of the diner where the cook gave him free fries (yes, angels can eat), by the pond where he fed the ducks, by the theatre where he would watch matinees, and by the bakery where they made his favorite donuts.
But he was nowhere to be found.
Scotland is somewhat dreary this time of year, and I wonder if he is in his feels again. He gets that way sometimes. Unable to pull himself out of the emotional muck. He often thinks about humanity and the direction it is going. And he is worried.
I float over to the Edinburgh cemetery and spy Gabriel’s blue coat. He is looking out past the gravesites to the adjoining lake. I land near him and wait a moment before speaking. He tends to feel more comfortable when social interactions begin with silence.
“Care to share your thoughts?” I tentatively ask.
He tells me of his worries. But he also tells me that today, he has hope. That, he believes, humans still have kindness, compassion, and empathy. That there are enough good people to wait out the destruction created by those who are cruel. That the loving beings will clean up the mess and help everyone start anew.
He knows this to be true and has finally found peace. It is time for him to go.
He then kisses my forehead and disappears into the air. Nodding to me as he goes. And passing the baton.
