A Season of Angels Page 0,101

Mother we'd be at her place around four-thirty."

She raised questioning eyes to her husband.

"We're spending the evening with her, remember?"

"Of course." She'd momentarily forgotten.

"Do you want to cancel?" Andrew asked, tenderly brushing the hair from her forehead.

"No, I wouldn't want to disappoint her."

Andrew nodded and hugged Leah. They clung to each other for a moment extra and then reluctantly separated.

Leah drove to the hospital and for reasons she didn't understand, she walked over to the side yard where the faded nativity scene was displayed.

The manger was empty. As empty as her heart. As empty as her arms. She hung her head and closed her eyes. If this was a battle, she was surrendering. A prayer sailed straight from her heart.

"I don't know why You don't want me to have a child," she whispered, "but I can't hold onto this pain any longer. It hurts too much. I can't trust even myself." She'd given up trusting God years earlier, preferring to rely upon herself. Now that foundation had crumbled and she was left standing on the sharp rocks of her self-inflicted pain. In essence she was holding up a white flag to God, accepting whatever it was He had planned for her life. She was through fighting, through insisting she knew best, through being miserable.

Her prayer complete, she lifted her head. As she looked upward her gaze continued toward the faded yellow angel that adorned the rickety stable. Leah gasped as a breathless emotion clenched at her heart.

The angel was magnificent, golden and bright, her wings spanned out in elaborate display. She was so bright that Leah couldn't continue to look directly at her. She blinked, thinking this was some type of optical illusion. The sun bouncing off a mirror, or some such phenomenon. But when she opened her eyes, the angel was still there.

Glancing around, she wanted to point out this miracle to whomever she could find.

"Look," she cried out, spying an older woman walking along the sidewalk. Her head was bent against the wind. "It's an angel," Leah cried, attracting the other woman's attention.

The woman stopped and looked toward the nativity scene where Leah was standing.

"That angel's been there for years. Hospital ought to do something about replacing that old set. It's about to fall over."

"This is a real angel," Leah insisted, looking back, but when she did she realized God's messenger had vanished. Leah stared good and hard, wondering if God was attempting to tell her something. If so, the meaning was directed at her alone.

"If she's real, then heaven's in sorrier shape than I realized," the woman said with a deep-throated chuckle.

Leah's heart felt as light as an angel's feather as she walked into the hospital. Since she was a few minutes early, she stopped in the nursery to take a look at the baby girl Michelle had delivered the day before.

The infant, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, was sound asleep. A small red Christmas bow was taped to the side of her crib. Leah rarely visited the nursery. It had been a painful experience in the past, longing for a child so hopelessly herself, but she experienced none of the sharp edges of regret this time. It was as if the burden on her soul had been lifted.

"So here you are," Bonnie said when Leah stepped out of the nursery. "Your husband phoned, looking for you. He sounded anxious."

"Andrew?" He rarely contacted her at the hospital.

"I assumed you only had one husband," Bonnie teased. "You might want to call him yourself. From the sounds of it he's pacing the floor, waiting to hear from you."

Leah headed for the phone, but after four rings the answering machine kicked in. If it was that important, Andrew would call again soon.

He didn't. No more than ten minutes later, Leah was reading over the nurse's report at their station when Andrew came rushing down the corridor.

"Leah," he called breathlessly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. His eyes were bright and his voice sounded as if he were about to burst into peals of laughter.

"What is it?" she pleaded.

He released her and his hands framed her face. "I love you, Leah, never more than I do this moment."

She stared up at him, wondering at his craziness.

"You were right about us having a child. That feeling you claimed you had. It's happening, sweetheart, just the way you said it would."

"But Dr. Benoit said - "

"Mrs. Burchell phoned not more than two minutes after you