Letter to An Angel

Dear 12 year old,

Through the bustling crowd of the holiday shoppers frantically filing through the aisles, we made eye contact, and fully comprehending the object of your curiosity, I turned away, back to my family, and then back to you. Inquisitively I glanced  to gain any clue into your story, and in what manner and means dragged you into understanding. We locked gazes again. In between both sides of my barely zipped zipper, displayed the the tender heart of my second family, my school shirt. The R-A-P and half of another A captured every ounce of your focus. You were as  silent and still as a statue, but the delicate shutter in your blink, voiced your every expression. I could empathize with your blankness; Caught in the hesitant and awkward tickle of tears as they began their descent down my cheeks, I involuntary wiped them, and cracked half a grin, my trip to  target was only for Christmas shopping, to relax my mind, and yet I leave feeling as if God's invisible hand massaged my shoulders, all because of the presence of an angelic and childlike gaze of a twelve year old boy who knew the trauma of my school. And from that moment on seeing droplets of tears form in your eyes, I would be able to describe how an angel cries.

    Yours Truly a Wounded Warrior,

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