“Found another feather on my way over,” my friend Karen announced as she came in for coffee. “The angels like to remind me they’re with me.”
I shook my head. Karen and I had had this discussion dozens of times. Whenever Karen found a feather, it was a gift from an angel. “Don’t you think angels have more important things to attend to than leaving feathers for you?” I said. “Like protecting people in trouble. Carrying messages from God. Big stuff.”
“It doesn’t necessarily happen like that,” Karen said. “Angels are at work in our lives all the time. In ways both big and small.”
Still, leaving feathers around for Karen to find sounded like a game and much too trivial for these mighty servants. “Just keep an open mind,” Karen said on her way out. “Angels have time for everyone.”
That afternoon I walked to the beach to read a book. It was a beautiful day. I dropped my tote bag and plopped down in my beach chair. Once I was settled in the peace and quiet, I thought of Karen and her kooky notions. I closed my eyes. All right, angels, here I am. If you’re here too, I expect to find a feather.
I opened my eyes and looked around me. I took my time scanning the beach. Ha! I thought. No feathers, not even a bird. I’d tell Karen I was right. I knew it all along: Angels were too busy for her nonsense.
I reached under the chair for my book. Something pricked me. A small, ivory point stuck out of the sand. I tugged on it and unearthed a feather. I laughed out loud and tucked my “gift” into my tote bag.
That was the first of many. Once I started looking for them I saw them everywhere. As for Karen and me, you know what they say: Birds of a feather flock together.
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