Pink Dreams…by Jeanne Marie

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“Shhhhhh…she’s sleeping! Be quiet! Stop giggling!” Pink demanded.

Giselle yawned, “I’m just going to lie down on the bed and close my eyes for a little bit.”

“No! No you won’t!” Pink said. “We have to watch her all night. If we fall asleep, her nightmares will come.”

Gathered around the bed, the angels had been preparing to settle in and protect the woman as she slept when Sunny had started to tickle Giselle with a feather from her wing.

Then all the angels had caught the giggles, joining the game, tickling each other with wing feathers.

Their giggles still lit up the dark room, as pink energy swirled around them.

The woman lay sleeping, but she was kicking the blankets off her legs. She started to toss and turn, mumbling as tears started to drip from her eyes.

“Okay, okay, stop!” Pink said.

Pink’s stern command reminded them why they were here and as one, the angels tucked the feathers back into their wings and stopped all the play.

They drifted down onto the bed and surrounded the woman.

“She’s burning hot,” Giselle whispered.

Gently, fluttering like butterflies, they cooled the woman with the breeze from their exquisite pink wings.

Two at her head, two at her feet, one on each side of her heart.

They prepared to snuggle in for the night, but not to sleep.

As they covered her with their wings, the women’s face relaxed and her tears stopped.

The Angels were ready to watch over her until morning and they knew that they needed to stay awake.

They never planned their activities; they always let the night’s activities unfold naturally.

Giselle started to sing softly and when she stopped, Sunny began to sing.

They sang of the flowers the woman had grown for the angel fairies to live in and to play in, they sang of her many gardens…always planting a garden wherever she lived, always leaving her flowers behind for others to enjoy when she moved on to a new home.

They wove the names of her favorite flowers into a sweet melody…roses, lilacs, hibiscus, sunflowers, tiger lilies, dianthus, hyacinths, butterfly plants, crepe myrtle, violets, passion flowers, sunburst dahlias, iris, gladioli, lily of the valley, trumpet vines, rose of Sharon, crown of thorns, bird of paradise, daisies and more.

On and on, they sang about each flower and each plant that she had ever loved into life.

They sang about her three children and her fourteen grand-babies, describing her love for each and then they sang about her great-grand-babies, two girls and two boys.  So many blessings, the first time she held each baby, the first hug, the first birthday, so many moments of clean, pink love.

They sang about the gorgeous butterflies she attracted and they sang about the way she whispered to them and they listened to her.

And so, the darkness passed and the daylight returned, as always.

As the amber glow from the morning sun leaked through the pink lace curtains, the angels began to close their eyes, one by one.

Their gentle snores released pink energy, just like their giggles had and as the woman woke, she smiled, not even knowing that she was breathing in the pink oxygen released by the angels.

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