The golden moments in
The stream of life rush past us
And we see nothing but sand;
The angels come to visit us,
And we only know them when they are gone.

- George Eliot




“Daddy! Did you see that?”



Oliver laughed as he watched the little girl twirl round and round in the grass, trying to make the skirt of her dress fly in the wind. When she finally stopped, she stumbled on her feet for only a moment before regaining her balance and doing it again. The wide, jovial grin that spread across the girl’s face made Oliver laugh even more. How easily amused his daughter was.



“That one was even better! Did you see that one, too?” The girl had stopped swirling and was now jumping up and down with enthusiasm.




“Yes, I did. You have quite a talent, Maura,” Oliver replied, holding out his arms for his daughter, who was running to where he sat under a tree.



“Then tell me again why I can’t learn to fly yet,” Maura demanded, crossing arms over her small chest as she plopped down on Oliver’s lap.



Oliver wrapped his arms around Maura and marveled at how tiny she felt against his chest. “Because you’re still just a little too young, Angel. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt, now, would I?” Oliver asked and kissed the top of Maura’s head.



“But what if I promised not to get hurt?” Maura asked, and leaned her head backwards so she could see her father’s face. Her eyes were shining brighter than usual with hope and anticipation. He could tell that she would never truly give up until the day finally came when she could sit on a broom by herself.



Oliver smiled at his daughter’s antics. “And just how do you think you will be able to keep that promise, hmm?”



Maura rolled her eyes as though the answer was painfully obvious. “Well, that’s easy.”



“Oh, really?” Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle at Maura’s confidence.



“Yes. I’ll just ask an angel to watch over me,” Maura replied with steady certainty, like it were the most logical thing in the world.



Oliver laughed again, readjusting Maura on one knee so that he could face her. “Oh, I see. And where are you going to find this angel?”



Maura shook her head. “Everyone has an angel, silly. I already know mine. They just don’t show up unless you really need them.”



His daughter’s assured faith amazed Oliver. He admired Maura’s brilliant imagination and active mind. Of course, that was the beauty of being a child. You could have faith without having to question it.



“Is that so?” Oliver replied. “Who is your angel, then?”



Maura’s eyes shone even brighter and large grin spread across her delicate features. “Mama, of course!”



Oliver was struck Maura’s words, for they were surely not what he was expecting. He had never told Maura all that much of her mother. Of course, he had shown her pictures, and told her a few stories, but he had always dreaded the day when Maura would ask why her mama wasn’t there. The day had come, eventually, and a little sooner than Oliver would have liked. How was he supposed to explain to a three year old what had happened to Bella?



Bella had been his wife of two years when she announced they were having a baby. Oliver had been thrilled, and his joy was reflected within her eyes as well. They couldn’t have been happier to start a new chapter in their lives together.



But fate was cruel. Fate does not know the difference between good and evil, between love and hate. It strikes with an even hand, unbiased towards all, and it struck Oliver with everything it had. No one would ever have guessed that something could go wrong. But something did go wrong, and no one could stop it once it did. By the time Bella had begun the delivery of their baby, it was already set that one of them would die.



With sickening indifference, fate provided one choice, one pitiless, callous, single choice. And with heartbreaking certainty, Bella made the choice fate had thrust upon her. Bella gave her life for that of her child. Fate showed no mercy, no evidence of thought or care. Fate was cruel.



Oliver held back the tears that were threatening to break free. He had never told Maura the full details of what had happened to her mother. He had assured Maura with all his heart that Mama loved her, and wished she could be there too, but Mama was somewhere else and she would always be watching over Maura with a smile on her face.



Oliver quickly wiped away a single tear that had escaped. Bella was Maura’s Angel.



Maura watched Oliver and snuggled closer to his chest. Oliver smiled and hugged his daughter in a tight squeeze, causing her to giggle.



“So everyone has an angel? An angel to protect them?” Oliver asked.



“Of course! Haven’t you met yours yet?” Maura asked, her chocolate eyes twinkling.



Oliver stroked Maura’s hair and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. He had met his angel. His angel was who kept him strong after Bella’s death, the only one who kept him from drowning. His angel was the light of his world, his lifesaver and greatest joy.



“I have,” Oliver replied, “and I’m looking at her right now.”



“You think I’m your angel?” Maura asked, her voice high with curiosity and wonder.



“I do. I think you’re my angel,” Oliver answered again, smiling at his daughter’s obvious joy.



After a moment though, Maura’s joy was replaced by a pout. “Angels can fly,” she muttered softly, leaning into Oliver’s shoulder.



Oliver laughed and held his daughter closer. “Listen, Maura. If angels ever come to visit us, I’ll let you fly, knowing that you will be safe and sound.”



Maura immediately perked up and grinned widely. “Really? You promise?”



“I promise. But for now, I want you to be patient, alright? Or else the angels may not come as soon, and we don’t want that, do we?”



Maura shook her head fervently. “I’ll be extra good, just in case,” Maura pledged.



Oliver gave his daughter a grateful squeeze. “Good. Now, why don’t you show me that twirl again?”



Maura grinned and jumped up excitedly, twirling and twirling around in the grass until she became so dizzy she fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

---

~ One Year Later ~



“Be sure to hold on tight, Maura,” Oliver cautioned as he watched his daughter carefully straddle her brand new broom.



Maura rolled her eyes and smiled. “I know, Dad. It’s not like you haven’t told me ten thousand times.”



“I haven’t told you ten thousand times,” Oliver argued. “And I’m only doing it because I want you to be safe. You’re my daughter…I have a right to be nervous.”



Maura laughed and made an exaggerated show of tightly gripping the sleek broom handle. Oliver couldn’t believe that he was finally teaching his daughter to fly. It was as though it was only yesterday that she was running around the yard, searching for an angel. She would look up at the ceiling every night after he tucked her in, and say, “If it’s not too much to ask, a visit from an angel would be nice. So if any of you angels are listening, I’ll be waiting for you in the yard tomorrow.” Every morning, she would run out to the yard again, hoping that an angel somewhere had heard her wish.



Oliver shook his head as he watched Maura carefully kick off the ground and hover in the air, just how he had instructed her. He was impressed, for when he was her age his father had to charm his broom to keep him from trying to fly higher than he was allowed. Needless to say, he hadn’t been the easiest child to teach.



Maura, who must have mistaken his expression for fear, sighed and shook her head as well.



“Don’t worry, Dad. I made a deal with the angels,” she assured, wearing a grin that made her whole face light up.



All of a sudden, all of Oliver’s worry and anxiety seemed to wash away. Instead, he immersed himself into teaching his daughter how to perfect her technique and improve her speed without losing her control. For if the angels had indeed come to visit, which he was sure they did, he had nothing to worry about.