For Give Her Wings' Little Lambs
Older lambs should check out the Legends page.
*Note from Ram: This story's about one of my favorite new characters: Arel, a little angel in God's kingdom.*
Arel flapped his small angel wings down towards the sky. His golden hair flowed in the wind as he tried to stop himself, which failed. Terribly. He crashed into the clouds, doing a somersault and coming to a halt at another pair of feet. Arel sheepishly looked up at the stern face of Michael Archangel. “Oops,” the little angel grinned. Michael was the general of God’s armies, and despite his hard countenance, Arel always managed to make him smile. In this case, however, Michael’s composition remained the same.
“Do you have a message?” the bigger angel asked.
Arel nodded and checked his belt to make sure he still had it. It was gone! No, wait, it was still there, tucked in the back. He turned to reach for it, but the rest of his body followed. He spun in a circle. His left wing smacked him in the head, followed by Michael’s cry of alarm as the message fell out, through the clouds, and presumably landed somewhere on Earth. “I’ll get it!” Arel shouted, and dove into another spiral.
When he crash-landed for the second time, the angel flew up another few feet into the air to see if he could spot the scroll. “Where are you . . . ?” he murmured. After a minute or so of carefully surveying his wooded surroundings, he happened to glance up and saw it hanging from the branch of a tall beech tree. “Got you!” he exclaimed happily, but his triumphant gesture turned to one of dismay as a robin swooped down and snatched the scroll up.
The angel took off after the small grey bird. He was moving so quickly and recklessly that he almost didn’t see the bird drop it on a tree limb near a half-finished nest. He flapped to a stop and clumsily fell onto the branch. “I’ve got you this time!” he shouted, but before he could grab the heavenly message, it was scooped up by a raccoon and carried INSIDE the tree. Arel gave a sigh of exhasperation.
Without a second thought, the child-angel clambered inside the tree trunk through the same knothole the raccoon had used. His halo’s glow gave a small amount of light to the murky inside. “Mr. Raccoon? Where’d you go?” The large trunk gave him room to look down, and he found himself staring right in the confused face of three large raccoons. None of them held the scroll. Arel frantically looked around in the tiny den. There!
Another raccoon was scurrying out the entrance. “Come back here!” Arel crawled out after him, and the animal scampered away, holding the scroll in his mouth. Arel flew into the air and dove once more, plucking the raccoon off of the ground. “Now, give me that message back! It’s from God!” Arel ordered, pulling the scroll out from between the teeth of the persistant creature. Finally, Mr. Raccoon relented, and the scroll fell out into Arel’s hand.
Arel set the raccoon down and prepared to take off towards where Michael waited . . .
But was interrupted by a squirrel who, in a stupendous and slightly freakish feat of acrobatic maneuvering, flipped twice out of a tree to tear half of the scroll out of Arel’s grip! “Argh!” the little angel cried, irritated.
As he flew after the agile and somewhat superhuman squirrel, he commented to himself, “Nature does not like me today.” Which, of course, couldn’t have been true, as he was an angel, but he sure felt like it. The super-squirrel flew from one branch to another, over a dead tree trunk, and did a backflip into a lake.
Arel was extremely confused. “What in the world . . . ?” he started. The squirrel hadn’t surfaced yet. “God? I don’t think squirrels are supposed to do that. Can you make him stop?” Arel begged.
Right on a heavenly cue, the squirrel non-chalantly walked straight up out of the water without the scroll. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why? Why in the world would you do that?” Arel asked the squirrel. The squirrel, of course, had no answer, but kept walking into a little hole in the ground on all fours. Arel sighed again.
He flew up to another branch. There was the scroll piece, floating in the water. “Just as I’m about to grab it, a fish is going to eat it,” he muttered. He didn’t know an angel could get this infuriated. And, just as he dove for the scroll . . . nothing happened! He caught it up and flew directly towards where Michael waited for him.
He landed in front of the general. “Sorry I took so long. There was a robin, and a raccoon, and then Mr. Raccoon’s family, then a super squirrel, and a fish that wasn’t there, and a lake. Nature conspired against me,” he said dramatically.
Michael looked at him for a moment, then burst into laughter at the absurd story. “Well, at least you got the scroll,” the archangel said. His face changed to one of almost comical disgust as Arel plopped the message into his outheld hand. It was wet and covered in dirt, along with a sprinkling of raccoon saliva and bite marks.
He gingerly opened it and read it. His eyes narrowed for a bit, then widened joyfully. “It’s an invitation to another feast! We have many new Christians!” Michael exclaimed. Arel did a little celebratory dance, spun, and hit himself in the nose with his RIGHT wing. Michael put the child-angel on his shoulders and flew off towards heaven, laughing again.