Guided by the Light

I went to a Catholic elementary school and would have been sent to one for high school, had there been any in the small town where I grew up. I remember being taught each of us had a guardian angel who stuck by us, and learning to recite a prayer starting, “Angel of God, my guardian dear………….” One of the ancient nun teachers went so far as to have us scoot over and sit to the side at our wooden desks, to make room for our own personal angel. I wondered if my guardian angel was skinny. What if a more portly one had been assigned to me? I tried to leave adequate room, accounting for either possibility. Thirty years ago, I attended massage therapy school where — along with the anatomy, physiology and clinical bodywork we studied — there was New Age talk of Spirit Guides. One of my friends claimed to have three, and would go so far as to describe their appearances and clothing. I don’t have proof one way or the other, but I like the idea of ethereal beings hanging around and will admit to a weakness for those tall votive candles with pictures of saints or angels. I have one burning in the kitchen right now, to make things might feel welcoming. Just in case.

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