Okay, God, where are your angels? My Mum used to tell me the angels look out for us, but I don’t see any sign of angels. Certainly aren’t any flapping their wings round this cell of mine. Ah, guess they’d get their shiny wings dirty in a place like this, wouldn’t they. Huh! Are you listening God? Do you hear me?
I know I did wrong, but not much, it wasn’t my fault, really. I was just the driver. It was the others who busted that bank, and they’re locked up too. Deserve all they get, those rotters. But I got three years too, just for driving the van they got away in, or would have got away if those cops hadn’t been waiting round the corner. Someone must have tipped them off. Just wait till I find out who did that.
Now what about my kids? Their useless father took off years ago, and I’m in here, with nothing to do but go mad worrying about them. They might as well be orphans, and God, you said you’d look after orphans and widows. I know, they’re with my sister, but it’s not much life for them there, she’s as much a crook as I am. And God, you said all the children have angels who look on your face and look after the children. Well, you’d sure better look after my children, ‘children of inmates’ they’re called now, because I sure can’t.
Oh, and Christmas is coming, I can’t even get any Christmas presentsfor my own kids. I know, I never used to get them much anyway, never had any money, but I was there for them, well, when I wasn’t drunk, but now I’m locked away here and can’t do a thing. And I’m not even drunk.
Won’t be much of a Christmas for me in here, but I don’t mind that. Never was one for Christmas, anyway. It’s my kids’ loss that hurts. I’d give anything to make Christmas better for them.
You wouldn’t believe it! An angel showed up. Truly, an angel came and told me my children were getting Christmas presents, and I didn’t need to worry about a thing.
She told me about this organisation I’d never heard of, prison fellowship, who run a program called Angel Tree. People from churches buy presents for children of prisoners (like my Millie and Jake) and give them out as if they’d come from the parent. Have you ever heard of anything like it?
Anyway, they had somehow got hold of my kid’s names, and even managed to ask what they wanted. Would you believe that? And then this group, they went around delivering all these Christmas presentsto children of inmates.
When my sister brought Millie and Jake in to visit last week, Millie brought the doll she’d been given. It was a beauty alright; Millie was thrilled to bits, and cuddling that doll as if she wouldn’t let it go. Jake was beside himself with the latest Lego, he’d made an enormous truck and brought it to show me.
“Thanks, Mum,” Millie said. “You got me the best present ever.” Well, that brought tears to my eyes. Most I’ve cried for ages.
I don’t know much about this outfit, prison fellowship, but when I get out of here I’ll find out more. I think there must be hundreds and hundreds of angels out there, just like in heaven, all doing their thing, and bringing joy to people at Christmas. God, you must have heard me after all.