This is a picture of Angele M. Dumestre, our friend and guardian angel.
Here is a poem my co-worker wrote 3 days ago about our friend and co-worker, Angele. I thought you all might enjoy reading it. It epitomizes exactly who she was and what she meant to us all.
Golden Angel
I woke up crying in the night.
Our Golden Angel's taken flight.
Reluctantly the wings release.
I feel their gentle beating cease.
.
.
.
They're drawn to us; they're drawn to heat.
They fan life's flames with gentle beat.
They cherish life, they nurture love;
reflecting light from up above.
We know that light, we know it all;
but sometimes we can not recall
until we feel the wings withdraw,
and then we find that we're in awe
of things of which we weren't aware
when gentle cov'ring wings were there.
.
.
.
She came among us bearing light;
a gentle warmth that just felt right.
We saw a loving caring soul
who made us feel that we were whole;
that if 'twas fault or lacking there,
then she should be the one to bear
whatever blame that there might be.
How eager she to set Us free.
Dispensing gifts to right and left,
she'd give it all ... she's not bereft.
She put her own life on the shelf;
esteeming others more than self.
And if her thoughts got lost in flight
(flutter of wings beyond our sight),
you knew if she forgot your name
she knew your spirit all the same.
For when I'd have those times of doubt
my Angel always found me out.
When cynicism had it's way,
"You mock", I'd hear the others say.
My Angel fixed me with a stare,
said "No. I see believer there."
And in my heart I blushed to know
that this one knew that it was so.
She'd smile at us as we made jest,
but she would put our words to test.
She would not bear an unkind word
(pretending that she had not heard).
We all should hope that He above
will show to us this sort of love.
And we to whom she has been lent
should wonder at what we've been sent.
.
.
.
Mother above on us looks down;
She often has good cause to frown.
Yet us She holds in palm of hand
until we reach that distant land
where once again we'll know the light
(we think we see, but oft' lose sight).
At need She'll send a Golden One;
to push us back into the sun.
Queen of Heaven on us you smile;
sending helpers for every trial.
They come among us bearing light,
protecting wings beyond our sight.
Why is it that we do not see
the Golden Angels sent from thee?
Dan
That's a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it, Cindy Lou.