Angels on assignment
“I called you two here as it’s time for Tabitha to get her ‘permanents’ and in order to do so, she must complete her earthly challenge of two nights without any major complaints. Is that clear, Gus?” asked St. Michael, addressing the angel Gustavus by his more commonly used name.
Gus, looking forlorn and downfaced, looked up at the archangel and nodded his head in acknowledgement. He understood. ‘Permanents’ meant elevation to permanent status as an angel, a promotion from the lower angelic rank of ‘probationary.’ Both angels recognized the promotion was the goal of every probationary angel, and Michael, the keeper of angelic records, thought about the many others who had completed the assigned challenges to earn their ‘permanents.’
Gus had his work cut out for him with Tabitha.
Tabby, as she was affectionately nicknamed, had received her probationary wings more than two hundred years ago at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, where she whispered ‘words of life’ into the ears of soldiers who’d given up hope of living. But now, Tabby was struggling in her efforts to reach the next angelic level, permanent wings.
Gus got ‘permanents’ when William the Conqueror reformed the British nobility with the Domesday Book. Gus had been the voice of inspiration for William’s historical notch of liberalization to the English society. For that, he received his ‘permanents,’ but since then, he had not received a promotion to the next angelic level, archangel status, and more than a thousand years later he was still working toward that goal. Tabby would be his chance to move up the angelic ladder.
But Tabby was a challenge. She was as good-hearted an angel as any angel could be. She loved fully and unconditionally, but she had one little flaw: she just couldn’t help but complain a little about anything she encountered. “God could have done it in six days, you know if He hadn’t taken time off to rest. Noah should have swatted those two pesky mosquitos. Eve should have tried the bananas first. Besides, I don’t like snakes.”
Tabby was going to be Gus’ big challenge. Could Gus get Tabby to bite her tongue, button her lip, and accept things as they were, or, better yet, find the bright side of everything? Tabby just couldn’t resist criticizing anything she saw, heard, or experienced. No angel worth her value to the heavenly congregations could be a complainer, thought Michael. Gus feared this assignment; as he saw it, it was a miracle in the making if he succeeded.
Then, Michael asked, “OK Gus, you ready? How about you, Tabby? Lips sealed, heart open?” The earthbound duo nodded their heads in assent and poof, there they were trudging through the snow of Toronto, Canada, along Bayview Avenue near the Bridle Path to be more exact. The homes here were among the most opulent and lavish in all of Toronto. Drake had a home here. So did Conrad Black, Lord Black of Crossharbour. Galen Weston, of the Loblaw dynasty, recently sold his mansion there.
“Heavens, it’s really snowing, Gus,” lamented Tabby.
“Tabby, have you forgotten that quickly? No whining, no complaining. It’s a great winter’s night here in Canada’s biggest city. It’s a beautiful night, crispy cold, frosty fresh. Nice, isn’t it!”
“Well, we could have drawn a better assignment, someplace like Miami, or Havana or even somewhere in Mexico where it’s warmer, sunnier and a lot more inviting than here in wintery Canada.”
Gus simply shook his head, recognizing how tough this assignment was going to be.
“And another thing, I don’t know why we have to lose so much of our angelic power. We can’t fly. We have to eat. We feel the cold. Luckily, we still have our telepathic communication capability; much good that does us. All we can do is talk to each other. And only one angelic superpower act permitted for each of us. This is one darn hard assignment if you ask me.”
Gus bit his lip in angelic restraint.
The agenda the duo had drawn was to spend two winter nights in Toronto with two financially different families, one very rich, the other very poor. They were to spend one night at each family’s home without criticism or complaint about the family or how they lived. For Gus, it was no challenge, but for Tabby, who always saw something to complain about in everything, it was an enormous challenge.
This was night number one.
Gus and Tabby turned onto the Bridle Path just past the Black’s mansion. Black had been declared persona non grata in the heavenly books because he had cooked his own company books. The angelic twosome gave Black’s home a pass. Soon, they were in front of another huge mansion that belonged to a very well-known Austrian auto parts manufacturing magnate, an old man now in his early eighties who was still very ornery to everyone. Gus pointed at Frank Stronach’s house, “Here we are Tab’. And remember, no comments about his recent legal problems. Let’s go.”
The mansion belonged to the incredibly wealthy Stronach family, among the richest in Toronto, maybe even North America. Stronach had earned his wealth through the manufacture of car parts and through astute IPO investments during the downturn of the economy in the 1970s. Stronach made a huge fortune gouging competitors and short-selling on the stock market. He even had Belinda, his daughter, working beaus to gain financial information to increase the family profit. But Stronach was miserable, one of the meanest and most brutal tycoons in Canada, and this orneriest of all the big-time magnates still lived on the Bridle Path. Everyone thought when his daughter, Belinda, grew up, she might mellow the old coot. They erred; Frank remained as crotchety an ogre as ever. Wealth just made him angrier as he greedily pursued more money. One might think wealth would moderate his temperament. It did not. Nothing did. He was an ogre, through and through.
The two angels approached the huge double doors of the enormous and elegant mansion. Tabby rang the bell. Within moments, a butler answered.
“Yes,” he queried.
“Hello. We need shelter for the night. As you can see, this is a very cold, wintry night. Can you accommodate us?” Gus asked.
“Wait there,” replied the butler. He turned and walked back across the huge atrium toward the central part of the house.
Tabby couldn’t help himself and, in a low voice, said, “I know it isn’t charitable to say this, but if the butler is any indication, this family likely is a miserable bunch. Look at the kind of night it is, and he leaves us out here, standing out here in the cold.”
The two angels waited outside, shivering just as if they were human.
The door re-opened. The butler declared, “The master says he doesn’t do accommodation for strangers. Please leave the property.”
Tabby was shocked. Gus was dismayed, but he had an agenda to complete, so he insisted, “Please, sir, just a space for two tired and hungry travellers to lay their heads for one night.”
The butler again closed the door. Gus bowed his head as if in prayer. Tabby shook his. A few minutes later, the butler opened the door wide and beckoned the two angels inside with a crooked finger. He led them down a long hallway and opened a door leading to a set of steep stairs descending to the mansion’s basement. Again, down another long hallway. The trio walked on and on until they finally reached a flat grey-painted door. “You can stay here for the night, but the master wants you out early tomorrow morning.”
Gus thanked the butler and nodded in agreement to the demand. Tabby continued to nod and shake her head incredulously as to how they were being treated.
“What a sad way to treat two travellers only needing a place to stay for one night,” she lamented.
The room was grey masonry, dank and gloomy, with a beat-up couch on one side of the room and a worn and tattered lazy boy chair on the other.
Tabby continued shaking her head, “I can’t believe this. Did you see how beautiful this house is upstairs? Look what we get. He’s got a lot of nice rooms upstairs that would have been much more suitable for us than this room. And besides, it’s freezing down here.”
Gus responded, “It’s ok. It’s dry, and it’s warmer than being outside in the night.”
The two angels took to the couch and chair, examining the room and wondering how such a miserable, dismal, shabby room could exist in such a beautiful home. The room was dimly lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling.
“What a dump!” continued Tabby in a whining tone of complaint, “We deserve better than this. Look, there’s even a hole in the wall over there.”
Gus walked over to the wall with the hole, peered through and then swiped his hand over the ragged hole, using up the one opportunity of angelic power he was permitted on this two-day earthly visit. Miraculously, the hole was re-cemented and set solidly in an instant.
Tabby queried, “Why did you do that, Gus? Are we doing repair work for wealthy people now? People who won’t even give us a warm room for the night!”
Gus replied, “Shh, Tabby, you must stop criticizing things like that constantly, or you won’t earn your wings, you know. Besides, things aren’t always as they seem.”
To the surprise of the two angels the next morning, the door to the room opened very suddenly, and the butler declared, “It’s time for you to go!”
Down the long corridor and up the steep flight of stairs, the butler walked with the pace of the aged. The two angels quietly followed behind him, their feet normally would have been floating along the floor, but as they were “on assignment,” they were relegated to trudging along behind the butler who never gave them a second glance.
As the two angels moved along the main corridor toward the front door, they saw the dining room and an old man seated at the head of the table, eating alone. He looked up at the two angels, said nothing and resumed eating at a table that seemed loaded with food. He didn’t bother looking up from his food again as the trio passed the dining hall entrance. Tabby shook her head in amazement and was about to say something; Gus quieted her quickly with a raised index finger to his lips.
The two angels resumed the exodus.
“Well, I’m glad that’s over with,” whined Tabby. Gus bit his lip. Even an angel’s patience has limits.
Now, the second night. The two angels slogged along Queen St. East, snow falling steadily. This was the downtown core of Toronto, arguably the municipal jewel of Canadian cities. But they saw old houses, boarded or dilapidated storefronts, and haggard-looking street people standing in many of the doorways. At Sherbourne St., they saw the long queue of homeless single-filed outside the Salvation Army shelter. Some of them were lying on the pavement under plastic sheets and canvas rags to ward off the cold.
Tabby opined, “That’s terrible. There is so much wealth in Toronto and just look at that line of people looking for a bed and a warm place to stay for the night. Worse, looking at all those homeless just lying on the sidewalk.”
“Shh, Tabby, ours is not to criticize or complain about others either. We have another agenda to fulfill. Let’s move on.”
The duo came to the door of a run-down house. It looked like it could be 100 years old, maybe built during WW II. A real dump, thought Tabby.
“D’ya think they will have a place for us, Gus?”
Gus knocked on the door as the two angels looked out at the house’s backyard from the front porch. They spotted a couple of chickens and a small goat.
The door was opened by a thin, old man, stooped from age. Gus repeated his request, as made the night before, about their need for a place to stay.
“Please come in,” said the old man, “I am sorry we don’t have much to offer you, but I have an empty room at the back of the house. It’s dry and warm enough, and it even has a large window facing the backyard. My wife is making some supper. You are welcome to join us, although it is not much. Come in, come in.”
“Well, that’s better,” said Tabby. “But I doubt they have very much. From the look of this place, I doubt we will be fine dining,” Tabby pined.
Again, Gus shushed the younger angel. Supper was very simple: roasted root vegetables, some boiled chicken, and some goat’s milk cheese. Tabby thought, “This bread is stale.”
The old man’s wife apologized for the simple supper while cutting two more slices of bread with difficulty as it was very dry, brittle, like balsa wood. Gus ate solemnly. Tabby ate like a starving sailor on leave, with gusto and without awareness of how much she was eating, leaving very little for the old couple to eat, but the two angels hadn’t eaten anything at the mansion the previous night.
Gus nudged Tabby’s knee when Tabby reached out for another slice of cheese. Angels don’t normally eat, but as Gus repeatedly said, an assignment was being fulfilled, and the pair were relegated to feeling hungry as part of the assignment requirements. The knee nudge was Gus’ way of admonishing Tabby for eating so much of the poor couple’s food.
The wife, again with much apologizing, showed the two angels to the back room. They entered and saw it was dry and warm enough. They looked out at the backyard and saw the pair of chickens and the goat tethered to the tree.
Tabby thought, ‘Pretty drab. We deserve better, but these people likely have nothing better.’ Meanwhile, Gus was sending up a prayer of thanks and appreciation.
The lady bid them both a good night, promising to wake them early for some breakfast. Then she quietly closed the door.
The next morning, Tabby looked out the back window. “Oh no,” he exclaimed, “The goat! The old man is burying the goat. It must have died during the night.” The duo came into the kitchen and saw the small kitchen table set for them, which had slices of toast and a very small mound of goat cheese. Again, the couple apologized profusely for the very humble breakfast. A small Melita coffee maker was brewing coffee on the stove.
The woman seated at the breakfast table was sobbing quietly. Tabby asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The poor woman just sobbed a little more loudly while the old man responded, “Our poor old goat died last night. She gave us milk and cheese. But now we’ve lost her.”
Tabby was beside herself, not quite angry; angels were never to show anger but very upset, nevertheless. She could barely telepathize her thoughts to Gus: “What is this? What’s going on? This is terrible. Last night, we stayed at a rich family’s home, got nothing, and you helped them by doing repair work. Tonight, we’re treated as best as this poor family can treat us. They have next to nothing. They shared what they had, and you let their most important asset die. What’s the matter with you? How could you let this happen?”
Gus just bowed his head in quiet supplication at the table but telepathically replied, “Tabby, things aren’t always as they seem. When we stayed in the basement of the mansion last night, I noticed there was a seam of undiscovered gold in the earth visible through the hole in the wall. That rich family didn’t deserve to discover and claim that find. That owner was too selfish and lacking in generosity. So, I sealed the wall so no one would discover that gold, ever. Then, last night, as we slept in this old couple’s home, the angel of death came for his wife. I renegotiated the angel’s agenda. He relented and accepted the goat as replacement for the wife. So, you see, things aren’t always what they seem, Tabby. You just need to believe that there can be a positive outcome to almost every situation. You just might not know it until sometime later…and one last thing, Tabby. Believe more and stop all your complaining…so that you can keep your wings for many more centuries, even if they are probationary ones. God bless.”
Tabby bowed his head, realizing how wrong she had been with her criticisms and complaints. She acknowledged her unangelic behaviour and swore an oath to always keep her faith and trust in positive belief. She sent her prayer of optimism and appreciation heavenward. As she prayed, beautiful harp music started to play, and bells began to peel over at St. Michael’s cathedral. Then, to Tabby’s amazement, two huge wings floated down into the room and attached themselves to her shoulders. Tabby added to her vow, “From now on, I promise to become a roving guardian angel of optimism and thanks. I will help teach people that if they have faith and trust, they will see everything more positively and if they practice this, their lives will improve for each of them. They will see that life really is wonderful. But we must open our hearts first.”
Tabby then snapped her fingers and flicked a finger toward the backyard. A gold lightning bolt flashed from her fingertips. “There,” she said, using up her one angelic super act to which she was entitled ‘on assignment.’ A goat’s bleat was heard, loud and clear. The pair of chickens now was a much larger flock plucking away by the tree. Tabby saw that the house had changed, been renovated, rebuilt, and really improved. It was bigger and nicely painted, and everything about it looked better. Tabby sighed, “That’s better. This old couple deserved all this.”
Gus smiled. He did it. Tabby was given her ‘permanents.’ His task was completed successfully. He smiled even more, knowing the peeling cathedral bells ringing throughout the city meant other angelic agendas had been successfully completed and many other ‘probationaries’ had just received their ‘permanents.’
“Gus, I had my doubts,” said Archangel Michael. “Tabby was a real challenge, but you did it. You kept your belief in her and it was redeemed. Now, I am pleased to declare you, ‘Gustavus Arcangelus.’
The heavenly choir began singing Leonard Cohen’s, “Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord. Hallelujah.” After all, heaven is for everyone!
