The little angel looked up from the scene below him, closed his eyes briefly, then to think. Numbers, figures and tallies flashed by like scores on an old video game in three dimensions until he had it all clear, in his mind, every one.
“Lil’un?” He heard and felt the presence of the large angel above and behind him. “Have you got those siphers for me yet?”
“Yes sir,” he replied. “Everything for this week: services, baptisms, communions, hosannas, hallelujahs, choirs, scripture readings, Bible study groups, readings, songs, hymn…everything that I keep track of. Are you ready for me to send?”
“Fire away, son.” As the little angel concentrated, he could see the large form above him glow and convulse with energy. “Between you and the hundreds of other young angels keeping track of things, we can’t afford to dally. So, as far as English-speaking hymns, “Blessed Assurance” is still number one, is it? It has been for awhile, now; CurlyTop is still at it.”
“Excuse me sir? CurlyTop?” whispered the little angel.
“She is a young angel like you, her given name Cyndy, with a Y. It is because of her that hymn is so popular. She wasn’t a singer or a dancer or preacher, but in her short time on earth she did make an impression; when her mom and her favorite doctor wrote a book about her, it touched a lot of hearts.”
“Wow, “said the little angel, looking a little forlorn. He was great with numbers and in fact special, but letters and words in an unearthly plane gave him trouble.
“Would you like to get to know her as her peeps did?” The big angel cast a knowing glance at his young charge. “I can help you with processing the words, and in fact I will throw in something extra to help you.”
The small angel nodded. “Close your eyes and prepare to receive, then Lil’un,” the large framed angel bellowed.
As the little angel relaxed, floods of words blurred at first, then sharp and bright, began to roll downward like an old earth movie, each one caressed by his loving mother’s soft, purring voice.