Entering the chapel, heads turned at the back in curiosity. Crossing myself, I moved over to an empty seat. My hood was up, I wanted to be alone. Shuffling through to the seat, I sat down and listened. I closed my eyes and felt it speak to me, felt my spirit calm and surround me. I was here at last, alone with my angel. My angel...
I hung my head and tears began to swell in my eyes. I throbbed in silent weeping as I felt it course through me, I was pleading, searching, praying.
The deacons around found it disrespectful I had worn a hood in the chapel, and so, one of them walked over to approach me.
Tears fell at my feet as I continued to commune with my angel. I felt a tap on my shoulder and an abrupt halt from it being repeated. What I didn't know was the person beside me had stopped the deacon from disturbing me. He knew I was praying, crying. The deacon moved away.
Then I felt a gentle hand caress my back, soothing, comforting me. Another hand from the right held my hand and I grasped it, holding on, thankful. I sobbed in joy.
He then said, "Cry, friend, cry. You are safe here..."
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