Answer to a Prayer
Time: This Morning.
Place: The Throne Room of the Most High
Characters: The Elohim, and
Angels: Brave-Heart, and Theopolis.
The Father's Voice, this morning, was
sternly patient. It was Christmas Time,
and all was very busy up in Heaven, and on Earth,
at least in the Atmospheric Realms. The
prayers this time of year, like the sale
of roses on Mother Day, quadrupled,
and Messenger Angels were particularly
engaged: flying back and forth with
special prayer requests from Earth:
the prayer baskets they carried were
decorated with tiny wreaths, and
gingerbread cookies. The LORD beckoned,
once more, to the angels who were
treading wings, hesitantly, on His
The smaller, much plumper angel, who
was biting on his little thumb nail and
trying to right his falling-down halo,
gave a nudge to the other much taller
angel. The taller one tripped over his
own two bare feet, and dropped the
big Prayer Basket that he had been
The Father noticed that most of the
gingerbread cookie decorations on the
basket had chomp-marks in them.
"What is it, THEOPOLIS?
Gird your loins, and
be an ANGEL!"
Brave-Heart immediately dropped his
plump hand to his side: the one with
the bitten thumb-nail. But he still
didn't speak; he was scared of speaking
in public, and he always got the hiccups
when he was scared.
He began hiccuping.
Theopolis handed his buddy a small
plastic bottle of water, and grabbed
a gauzy corner of
Brave-Heart's angelic sleeve and
dragged him over to the Kneeling Cushions:
the big Prayer Basket in hand. They
both scampered down to kneel; Brave-Heart,
still hiccuping, dropped his water bottle
and it rolled over to the huge bare feet
of Guardillius, the Big Guard Angel, who
gave it a nudge with his big toe and
rolled it back over to him. Theopolois
picked it up, unscrewed the bottle cap
and handed it to Brave-Heart, who was
blushing and biting his plump lower lip;
his angelic gown was smudged with Earth dust,
grime, and specks of gingerbread; he
was holding his halo in his little lap: one
of the demonites, during their flight
down to Earth, had pulled it off and
had blown purple-green slime on to it. Brave-Heart
was hoping to ask for a new halo for
Christmas, but he was afraid to speak
at the moment; he nudged Theopolis,
who stopped staring off into Space
and opened his mouth to speak.
Can I SPEAK for BRAVE-HEART?
I mean......the BOTH of us?"
The Father sighed. There was a long
line of Messenger Angels, all carrying
big Prayer Baskets decorated with wreaths,
bows, and gingerbread cookies, outside the
Throne Room Door. The Choir was
due for a practice-run-through at
two-o'clock Earth-Time, and there
was still the Staff Meeting at Four.
WE are waiting!"
Theopolis set down the Prayer Basket,
turning it to one side so that the
bitten-off gingerbread cookie side wasn't
showing....as much. He pretended not
to notice Brave-Heart's plump little
fingers edging around the basket for
the last piece of one particular ginger
bread cookie that only had one side of
a house left.
Theopolis reached up to nudge the
edge of his halo; it had been sliding
off, ever since their re-entry from
Earth's Second Layer of atmosphere;
the halo was dotted with bird-poop,
and stuck, here and there, with
stray, dirty bird feathers.
First of all.....Brave-Heart wanted
to ask You for a new halo for Christmas!"
The Father patiently nodded.
And, what, pray-tell, happened to
his OLD one?"
Theopolis cleared his throat.
"Well.....Ya see....it was...
Demon Darquinian The Ignoble,
FATHER! He POUNCED on us
when we were just making our re-entry
back to Heaven! He came from outta
The Father sighed, and continued to nod.
"WE will make note....and decide.
NOW, what have you in the Prayer
Basket for US?"
Theopolis turned to his buddy, who
was slowly and quietly chomping on
the tiny piece of gingerbread cookie;
his buddy shrugged his little shoulders,
and hiccuped. Theopolis turned back
to The Thrones.
I mean.....Your Honor!
I mean....Your FATHER!"
The Father shouted, in a Voice not quite as
patient as before.
"Just spit it OUT,
Be an ANGEL!"
Theopolis stared off into
Ya see, Father...."
Brave-Heart blurted out:
"THE BASKET'S ALL EMPTY!"
Then he gave a loud hiccup.
Cookie crumbs lay all over both
Kneeling Cushions. Brave-Heart
picked up an edge of his dirty gown
and put it in front of his cherubic
little mouth. Another muffled hiccup could
The Son spoke up, rather gently.
"My children, what happened to the
Prayers, that you were assigned to
pick up this morning?"
Brave-Heart quietly slurped another
sip of cold water; some of it dribbled
down his plump chin and onto his
already spotted gown. His bare chubby
toes wriggled on the Red Velvet Kneeling
Cushion. He only looked at his buddy,
who was squirming around on his Purple
Velvet Cushion, and changing his position
until he was sitting cross-legged on it.
Brave-Heart followed suit, but waited
for his friend to talk. Theopolis spoke.
The Father's Voice, this time,
was a Big Boom.
"SPEAK UP, THEOPOLIS!
Brave-Heart was scratching behind his left
bent wing; Earth air was particularly
itchy, and he had forgotten to put
on his Itch-Guard ointment this
morning. Brave-Heart's left wing
had been bent since his Creation.
Because of it, he always had to have
a buddy when flying since his flight
strokes were clumsy, and irregular.
Brave-Heart scratched some more,
and then blurted out:
"We didn't get ANY,
Your LORD! We didn't get
The Son patiently gazed at both
the Messenger Angels.
Theopolis and Brave-Heart looked
at one another, and both shrugged.
Brave-Heart fidgeted his left handicapped wing;
when really upset, he always picked
and poked at it: as if trying to pull it
unbentwise; it never worked. Brave-Heart
yelled as if he were in a tunnel and
The Elohim were way down the
on the other end of it.
His buddy shouted also: rubbing
one of his big bare toes.
"Demon Darquinian The Ignoble stole all
the Prayer PAPERS....,
We DID have some....but he
and his buddy, Kangaroon The Demonite,
stole 'em out of our BASKET!"
The Son nodded wisely,
and smiled gently.
you shall have to return
to retrieve them."
Theopolis looked up woefully,
after another nudge from Brave-Heart.
We'll DO that!
Brave-Heart has another
wish for his Christmas LIST!"
The Father patiently frowned,
"What is it,
Theopolis sputtered, and then
broke off another cookie from the
Prayer Basket. He munched slowly.
Brave-Heart suddenly yelled.
Can I get my WING.....FIXED?"
The Father shook his head firmly.
Theopolis cried out, woefully.
The Son smiled gently.
His Voice was patient and kind.
if Brave-Heart had two perfect
he wouldn't need
O my God,
day by day,
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