Do Angels Need People?
Marianna Rosset
© Marianna Rosset, 2016
© Cloudberry Language Solutions, translation, 2016
ISBN 978-5-4483-3026-1
Created with intellectual publishing system Ridero
The book is an adventure. It’s a book that can change your life. You’ll change and the world will change around you. A little bit. Maybe these changes will be enough.
A charming baby girl Efania (Fanyasha) is born in a regular family of angels.
Her happy and carefree childhood ends when she finds out that a human is going to be born for her soon, and she is supposed to devote all her life to this person.
She’ll go to an elementary school for angels and learn how the world of people works, what they live for and why they die, what the secret of female and male nature is, what a child needs in order to be happy, and many other things.
This unusual story of a small, inquisitive angel girl and her family will help you learn not only about the life of heaven’s creatures, but also about the rules of life on Earth and the laws of the Universe.
After traveling a difficult path, full of serious tests and exciting discoveries, Fanyasha will be able to understand what love and friendship are, and what the meaning of her own life is. She’ll be able to understand human nature and answer the main question: Why do angels need people?
Reviews
“This book changed my life. It made me realize how fragile our own human existence is, and how much help we need to get through life’s big challenges. This story got me thinking about the mistakes and troubles I’ve had in life, and how lucky I’ve been to have an angel like Fanyasha looking over me. Hooray for angels!” – Christopher Pascone, teacher.
“This book is probably not for everyone. However, it’s definitely for those women who want to have it all – be happy spouses and mothers as well as accomplished professionals and creators. It’s for dreamers and thinkers. It will give you encouragement and food for thought wherever you are – at a crossroads with a difficult decision to make or in your nursery putting your baby to sleep.” – Ksenia Jackson, entrepreneur.
About the Author
Marianna Rosset, a happy woman, a loved and loving wife, and the mother of two children, graduated from the Russian State University for the Humanities. She has worked in the education, real estate, marketing and restaurant fields. Before becoming an accomplished writer, she overcame many challenges in her difficult life path, and never lost her belief in kindness and miracles. She has visited over 44 countries in her search for the purpose of life, and has attended multiple workshops and training sessions. Marianna’s life experience, along with her internal freedom and harmony, has brought a whole kaleidoscope of precise observations, good pieces of advice and philosophical parables to her book. The book has united inspired readers into the FanyaClub, which helps thousands of people from all over the world to hear their angels, to learn, and uncap their internal potential.
– I still don’t understand how an angel can let a person know that he exists.
– There are many ways. For example, through a book.
– A book? How?
– Well, see, if a person starts reading a book about angels, it means his angel wants to talk to him.
– It’s a great idea, granny. Where can I get this book?
– Where? You can write it yourself!
– How can I write a book for people? It’s impossible. We live in different dimensions. People can’t read our books.
– We can solve that. Just choose the right person on Earth, talk that person’s angel, and dictate your book to him. You just need to want it!
From Fanyasha’s conversation with grandmother Nokomis
Chapter 1:
Love is Stronger Than Fear
It was one of those sweltering summer days when life in the courtyard of building number 8 became filled with the sounds and smells of the weekend.
As always, at noon, all of the building’s residents of were busy with their usual chores. You could hear the jabbering of the Sunday news coming from the open windows, knives hammering on the cutting boards, the clattering of ladles and grease splattering in the frying pans.
Oh, the smell of the approaching Sunday lunch, when the whole family gets together to savor some truly delicious food! It takes some time to herd the kids inside. Then a chorus starts up, “Vi-i-i-tya, Nata-a-sha – come ho-o-o-me! Ta-a-nya! Let’s go eat!” Without a doubt, “Mo-o-o-m, can I play some more? I’m not hungry!” is heard in response.
Usually, in these moments, it’s as if time has stopped – after a huge family feast, the sounds slowly die down, and the courtyard becomes shrouded in a quiet afternoon nap.
But for now, the buildings and the courtyard were abuzz with activity. Swings were screeching incessantly around the corner of the building. A neighbor from the second floor was beating a rug loudly. The sound of a tiny voice and timid keystrokes could be heard from another window on the floor above. From the top floor came the sound of a horrible rattling – apparently someone had decided to drill a hole in the wall to hang a new painting. Somewhere behind the building, a motor started up and then shut down repeatedly, the car clearly refusing to cooperate with its owner, who ultimately swung a muffled kick into the tire.
Two elderly women were flapping their hands by the second entrance to the building, presumably discussing something awfully important.
“Hey! No drawing here! I am talking to you! Go draw on the asphalt over there!” one of the old women yelled to a girl who started drawing a sun on the brick wall of the building with colored chalk. The girl shoved the crayons into her dress pocket and ran to the playground.
An apple-cheeked boy was running around the slide, laughing happily, because his small, ruffled-up puppy could not catch him. All of the benches were occupied, except for the one further away at the end of the yard. The benches were surrounded by a few trees that created wonderful and necessary shade on this hot summer day.
A few kids were playing ball, yelling out the names of different cities. Close by, a few girls were laughing loudly and jumping over an elastic band tied between two tree trunks. Neighborhood boys swung by on their bikes, screaming happily, then left a cloud of dust. On the playground, the littlest ones got distracted for a brief moment following the boys with their eyes, then returned to restlessly banging their shovels.
Had the residents not been so busy with their things, they would surely have noticed that an unusual man appeared in the yard. Despite the hot weather, he was wearing a long dark purple raincoat that fell to the ground, with a large hood over his head. He was extremely tall, thin, and old, judging by his long grey beard.
The man walked softly through the yard, peering into the faces of its inhabitants. Everyone was actively engrossed in something
