Pastor Bert concluded. “In the Bible, whenever someone met an angel, their life was never the same again!”
She wondered why he seemed to think this was a good thing.
“Well, little lady, if that’s all, I think you’d better give it another try.”
“Wh-what?” He chuckled and nodded at her empty plate. “Those are mighty slim pickin’s!”
“Yes, sir,” Prissie murmured, tacking on a belated, “Thank you.”
She returned to the end of the line, but only lingered for a moment. Confusion robbed her of her appetite, so she ducked into the kitchen to see if she could lend a hand. If what Pastor Bert said was true, she had nothing to fear from angels. On top of that, she’d already received a rare and precious message. The only problem was it didn’t make any sense.
5
THE RUDE AWAKENING
A tall warrior slapped his knees and took a seat beside an angel who wore his age gracefully, like a crown of silver. Lifting one callused hand, he said, “Shimron, I can still count the number of weeks your apprentice has been under my watch-care on these fingers. I cannot remember the last time so much trouble was stirred by a single misstep.”
“Was it a misstep?” the Observer inquired.
“I have good reason for misgivings,” countered the big angel ruefully.
“The stirrings had already begun before Koji arrived,” Shimron pointed out. “He would not be here if that were not so.”
“I know it,” he replied grimly. “But he is so very new. What compelled you to choose an apprentice so young?”
Shimron smiled benignly. “For the most part, Koji was no different than any of the other potentials in his class. Inquisitive. Eager. Hopeful.”
“But?”
“I was asked countless questions that day,” he reminisced. “But he was the only one who wanted to know why I was sad.”
The warrior’s gaze softened. “The boy saw through your brave front.”
“Koji sees the world with uncommon clarity,” Shimron concurred with a nod.
Prissie was only three when it happened, so she couldn’t really remember much, but in her dreams, she was always falling.
For a little girl brimming with determination, the barn was a wonderful place to explore — a warm, sweet-smelling paradise where sunlight streamed through dusty motes. Pigeons cooed in the rafters, and chickens scritched and scratched their way across the floor. Young Prissie had a vague sense of wanting to be Grandma’s helper and find the eggs their hens would sometimes hide in the loft, but five-year-old Neil lured her with the promise of kittens. Their mother cat had a new litter, and he wanted to be the first to find it. Her chubby legs barely managed the stretch between rungs on the ladder leading to the loft, but he pushed her up from behind.
The kittens were nowhere to be found, and Neil took off to continue his quest in the machine shed, leaving his baby sister alone amidst the golden bales. Soft clucks from one corner of the loft betrayed the presence of a lone chicken, and Prissie squealed in delight over her discovery. Abandoning her egg, the hen bolted out of the little girl’s reach, and Prissie followed, giggling as she chased it in ever-widening circles across the plank floor. When the hen leapt off the edge, awkwardly flapping to a safe landing below, her pursuer stumbled, teetered, and fell.
A shrill scream, a tilting world, and helpless whimpers. She clearly remembered her fear in that moment, for it remained with her.
According to Momma, Prissie was too scared to make sense, so no one believed the next part. But in her dreams, she still felt strong arms and heard a gentle voice. “You frightened me, little one,” soothed a strange man who cradled her close to his chest. “I was almost too late.”
Her eyes were blurred with tears, so Prissie couldn’t recall his face, but she had a lingering impression of long, brown hair … tanned skin … and warm hands.
“Don’t let your big brother lead you astray,” he urged. “And if your mother says not to play in the loft, you must listen.”
The little girl’s lip trembled, but she nodded before squirming to be let down. He released her, and she ran to the house to find Momma.
Prissie woke with a start, the dream fading from memory, leaving her with an unsettled feeling that was difficult to face alone. For a moment, she thought of going to her mother for comfort, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She wasn’t a baby any longer. “Just a dream,” she mumbled into her pillow, trying