WELCOME TO

Voice of an Angel

by

Bill MacWithey

As unhappy as he imagined a man could be, Brad backed out of his drive and headed down the street to the restaurant on the corner, three blocks from his apartment. Bradley Starr, an up and coming young investment counselor, had received the final papers in the mail yesterday - the court papers dissolving the marriage he had so wanted to save.

When he met Pamela, she was everything a man could want - gorgeous, witty - just what he was looking for. He immediately fell in love with the socially elite young lady, and things had gone fairly well for six months of their marriage, then it seemed she found fault with everything he did or said.

Though he did everything he could conjure up and tried extremely hard to make her happy, Pamela seemed intent on making his life miserable. Brad had always believed you married just once - like his parents. Their marriage spanned thirty-seven years, and they were still happy. But, it was not to be for his marriage. When Pamela told him she wanted a divorce, in spite of his convictions about one marriage for life, he had to be honest with himself and admit it was almost a relief. The only reason she gave him was, "I'm just not happy being tied down."

Never, had he felt so alone, or been so unhappy. He'd moved to an apartment in the small mountain community of Bristol after the separation. Just being in the same town with Pamela caused him pain. Alone in an apartment, he ate all his meals in restaurants. For him, it was a terrible way to live, having been married and living in his own home, with someone to share things.

Brad was a handsome man - six feet tall - wavy brown hair - rugged good looks. When dressed in jeans, he might easily be mistaken for one of the many lumberjacks from the logging camp in the mountains overlooking Bristol. He'd earned a master's degree in business and was extremely intelligent, plus, he had the kind of outgoing personality, which made everyone meeting him for the first time like him.

As he neared the restaurant, instead of slowing to turn into the parking lot, he continued down the street to the south side of the small logging and retirement community. As he glanced at all the stores and shops, closed on Sunday, he was confused. It seemed he was on auto-pilot and found himself turning into the parking lot of the church, emerging slowly from the car, to stand staring at the small stone building. What in the world am I doing here? Then, he mounted the steps and walked through the massive carved wood door.

Brad grew up in the Catholic faith, but hadn't been to church in some time. In fact, his ex-wife hadn't even wanted a church wedding. Funny, he hadn’t even noticed the name on the outside of the church. He sat toward the rear and, as the first song was being sung, Brad heard a beautiful voice somewhere behind him. It was almost an overwhelming urge to turn around to see who it was but, being a basically shy person, he would have been embarrassed to do so.

Each new song found him closing his eyes and listening to the perfect voice. It overshadowed all others, with its soft tenderness, yet seemed to have a strength that came from the soul. Later, he couldn’t recall a thing about the service, only the voice behind him.

When mass ended, he tried to hurry from the pew to see who it was with the beautiful voice, but in the crowd moving out the door, he could see no one he thought would own it. The voice haunted him all week, as he went about his job as an investment counselor. The town of Bristol had many citizens who had moved there to escape the big city, and many were quite wealthy, so his business was good. As he moved about town that week, the voice kept singing in his head. In fact, his every waking moment was haunted by the sound. He could close his eyes and hear the singing, as if she were right next to him. It was a long week for Brad, hardly able to concentrate on anything but the sound of her voice.

The following Sunday, he was up particularly early and got to the church in time to see most of the people arriving for early mass. The angel who'd sung behind him the previous Sunday didn't seem to be among them. Yet, when the opening hymn began, he once more heard the beautiful voice and admonished himself for not having the nerve to turn around to find her. He had to meet this woman! All week long, he had conjured up various images to go with the voice. She was, of course, beautiful, with natural blonde hair - petite, with perfect snow-white teeth and beautiful blue-green eyes. Her smile would light the darkest night.

Again, when mass was over, he tried to catch a glimpse of her to no avail. And, this continued the next four Sundays - Brad listening to the beautiful girl sing, then not being able to spot her when church services ended. All this time, he never heard a word the priest uttered, only the voice. Finally, on the fifth week of loving someone he hadn’t even seen he decided to risk embarrassment and turned around to find her, as she sang.

She was three rows back, straight dark hair, slightly crooked teeth, wore glasses, was a bit overweight, and sang with her soul. She glanced at him, a slight smile curling her lips, then looked back at her songbook. He was so disappointed. She wasn't at all the woman he had fallen in love with over the last few weeks. She just didn't fit the beautiful voice.

But, something compelled him to meet her. This Sunday, when the service ended, with the priest wishing them all a good afternoon, he caught up with her on the church steps and said, "Excuse me, I hope you'll not think me forward, but I've listened to you sing for a number of weeks. I've wanted to compliment you on your absolutely beautiful voice." He felt guilty for being even more disappointed when he saw her up close. She wasn't unattractive, but was far from what he'd always perceived as "attractive."

She smiled and said, "Thank you very much. It's so nice of you to say so."

Her speaking voice was as beautiful as when she sang. And, when she smiled, she seemed to radiate something Brad had never experienced. In her eyes... something... He extended his hand. "My name's Brad. Would I be out of line if I asked you to accompany me to breakfast?"

Even her slight chuckle was a beautiful sound. "Well, it’s a bit late for breakfast, but no, I don't think you'd be out of line at all. My name's Mary, and yes, I'd like to have breakfast with you, Brad."

The beauty of her smile mesmerized him, and there seemed to be something hypnotic in her eyes. They had breakfast and sat for some time making small talk. Brad felt something he didn't understand. There was something special about Mary.

"Brad, do you know where that beautiful view is up on the mountain? You know, where you can see the entire valley?"

"Uh, no, I haven't been there."

"Would you like to take a drive? It's a truly breathtaking view."

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

The scenic view parking area built by the state on the side of the mountain was deserted this early on Sunday, and they walked to the edge of the precipice that dropped three thousand feet to the broad green valley below. A soft wind carried the smell of pine trees from the mountain above, and the mid-day sun felt unusually good on his face.

Mary stared at the town below in the valley and said, "Looks like a toy town from up here, doesn't it? It doesn't look real." Then, she turned to face him. "You know, Brad, sometimes life's like that. Up close, it's all so real. But if you step back and look at it from afar, you wonder how you could be so wrong about things. Like, what's really important. Sometimes, that's what we have to do - step back and look at our lives. Look for what's real and what's not real."

He looked at her quizzically and said slowly, "I'm not sure I know what you mean?"

"You're terribly bothered about someone who wasn't really worthy of you. You're a good person, Brad."

"Uh, I'm not sure what you're getting at, but I like to think I'm a nice person. Could I ask you to go to dinner this evening?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Brad. I won't be here this evening."

The disappointment showed on his face.

"I'm not the one for you, Brad." She smiled sweetly. "You'll find the person you're searching for, but it's not me. Don't let what happened to your marriage spoil your life. I promise, the one you need is waiting to meet you. Just look at what's real in a person, and you'll find her."

"I already have. I know it'll probably sound ridiculous to you. You don't even know me." Brad hesitated, fidgeting with a twig he retrieved from the ground "Mary… gosh, I know this will sound ridiculous." Finally, he blurted out, "I fell in love with you the first time I came to church and heard you sing."

Mary again turned to face him, took his hands in hers and said, "Dear, sweet Brad." Again, she smiled for a moment before saying, "If it were possible, but I'm afraid it isn't. We had better get back to town."

Brad was bitterly disappointed that she had been so negative about his admission of love and was silent all during the fifteen-minute drive down the mountain. Mary seemed to be torturing him by softly singing the song he'd heard that first Sunday. When they arrived back in town, she asked him to drop her at the church. Then it struck him, and he blurted out, "My gosh, you're a nun?"

She laughed softly and said, "No, no, I'm not a nun. Close, but no, not a nun." She still smiled broadly, while waiting for him to open the door. As she removed herself from the seat, Mary asked, "You will be at early mass Sunday?"

"Yes, but can't I see you before then?"

"Brad, please believe me, if things were different I'd love to see you, but as I said, I'm not the one for you. Be sure to be at early mass." With that, she tripped up the steps and disappeared through the church door.

Terribly saddened that she had rejected him, he waited even more fervently for Sunday to arrive. He thought about going to see the priest to find out where to find Mary, but didn't want to make a fool of himself. However unhappy and lonely he was, he would have to wait it out until Sunday. All week long, he thought about what Mary said up on the mountain. He knew he'd repeated her words, "What's really important," at least a thousand times a day.

And, Sunday did finally come. Waiting in the vestibule until the processional hymn started, still, she hadn't shown up. He nearly walked away, but something tugged at him to go inside. The church was crowded, and he'd been seated but a half minute, when an attractive lady of perhaps thirty sat down next to him and whispered, "Good morning."

Then, she picked up the hymnal and began to sing. Brad stared at her in disbelief. The voice was the same. It was Mary's voice! Once more, he heard not one word spoken for the next hour. Each time he glanced over at her, she smiled. He followed her out of the church and stopped her on the steps. It struck him, this had all happened before. He haltingly said, "My name's Brad Starr. You have an absolutely heavenly voice."

"Thank you, Brad. Are you from Bristol?"

"Uh, no. As a matter of fact, I've been here just a few months. Would I seem like a fool if I asked you to have breakfast with me?"

"No, of course not. Would I seem foolish if I told you I had hoped you'd ask?"

They saw one another every day for the next two weeks. Over and over, he thought about what Mary had told him, and how she was so adamant about his showing up for church. How could she have known? Had she arranged this meeting with Michelle? He'd been happier this past two weeks than he'd ever been, but he couldn't get Mary off his mind.

One evening, as they sat on the steps of her front porch after dinner he asked, "Michelle, do you know a woman by the name of Mary who goes to your church?"

She laughed softly. "No. I really don't know anyone from that church." She was silent for a moment, then asked softly, "Brad, do you believe in guardian angels?"

The question took him by surprise. "I don't know. I've really never thought about it."

"When I met you, it was the first time in ten years I'd gone to church. You're probably going to think I'm weird when I tell you why I went. I came to Bristol to get away from the big city..." Once again, she hesitated, then said, "...And, to lose myself after a terrible failed relationship. Promise you won't laugh at me if I tell you why I went to Church when we met?"

He put his arm around her shoulders and said, "I'd never laugh at you. I love you."

"Remember, you promised. Anyway, the night before I met you, I had a really strange dream. I was standing on the side of a mountain looking down on Bristol. A woman stood beside me and told me the answer to my loneliness was at Saint Anthony's Church. I told her I didn't go to Church anymore and asked who she was. She said she was my guardian angel. And, she insisted I go to church the following morning. Well, I did... and here we are."

Brad stared at her in silence for so long she waved her hand in front of his face and asked, "You still here, Brad?"

"Uh, yes. What did this angel in your dream look like?" When she described Mary, he said, "Listen, Michelle, I need to leave. See you tomorrow?"

"If you don't, I'll come looking for you."

He kissed her goodbye and drove to the lookout on the side of the mountain. It was a particularly beautiful night, the stars seeming to shine especially bright. He looked from the town below, to the stars and said quietly, "Thank you, Mary."

The breeze was cool this time of night, but he seemed bathed in an unexplained warmth, and he could swear he felt lips lightly kissing his cheek.

The next evening, as he and Michelle ate dinner, he had said practically nothing, then suddenly said, "Yes, I do believe in guardian angels. Will you marry me, Michelle?"

She was taken aback by his proposal. "We've known each other such a short time. Are you serious? Do you think it's right?"

He smiled broadly and said, "Yes, I have it on very good authority that it was meant to be."