ago, and he’s now the guardian of his niece. He’s a busy man, an attorney with a big law firm.” She pointed to the red-brick professional building that sat adjacent to the park. “That’s his office there. On the sixth floor, with a view of the city. Anyway, he needed someone to watch over the girl, and I came out of retirement to do so.”
Walter glanced again at the orphaned child, poor little thing. He didn’t normally dig for information, but death seemed to be an ever-present reality these days, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. “What happened to her parents?”
“They were missionaries in a remote village in Guatemala, where the nearest medical clinic was far away and sorely lacking. Her mother died of blood poisoning, something that could have been easily treated in the States.”
“And her father?” he asked.
“He was going to bring little Analisa back to California, but while giving a tour of the neighboring villages to his replacement, he and the other man made a wrong turn on a narrow mountain road, and the Jeep rolled down a ravine. Her father was killed.”
Walter shook his head. “That’s terrible. Poor little tyke.”
“She’s pretty strong,” Hilda said. “As far as kids go.”
Walter returned to his work, wiggling the hanger between the window and the door.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Hilda said. “Would you look at this? I had the keys in my pocket all along.”
Walter carefully pulled the hanger free, then looked at the key chain that dangled from her hand.
“I’m so sorry for troubling you,” she said.
“No problem.” Heck, he didn’t have anything better to do. If he did, he’d be doing it.
As he left Hilda to open the car and retrieve her hat, he headed back to his table, back to his game.
But not before scanning the park for the orphaned child—poor kid—and spotting her looking up at the mulberry, her mouth open wide.
Analisa couldn’t believe what she saw. Her bright pink envelope now rested on the lowest branch, one that reached down to earth.
Had God read her letter? Had He answered?
Her heart skipped a beat, and she placed her dolly on the bench. Then she dashed off to the playground to get Trevor’s help. Even though the envelope wasn’t nearly as high as they’d put it, she still couldn’t reach it all by herself.
As she drew to a stop near the slide, where Trevor sat in its shadow, he looked up. He didn’t smile or speak, but he didn’t seem to be annoyed, either.
“I need you to climb the tree again.”
“You writing another letter to God?” he asked.
“No. Not until I get His answer.”
“That’s dumb. You’re going to be waiting forever.”
She kicked her shoe at a gum wrapper in the sand, then glanced at Trevor. “Don’t you believe God talks to people?”
“Why should I? He doesn’t talk to me.”
Still, the boy stood and brushed the sand from his pants. Then, with Analisa happily tagging along, he walked toward the tree.
“See?” She pointed. “It’s much lower now because God wrote me back and put it where I could reach better.”
Trevor climbed on the bench, then stuck the scuffed toe of his sneaker into a little hole in the trunk. He reached for a branch, pulled himself up, and plucked the envelope from the spot where it rested.
The flap was open, like it had been read.
Trevor dropped it to her, but she missed, and it landed on the lawn. So she picked it up and pulled out the folded pink paper.
She gasped when she saw the writing below her own. God had answered. But there was a big problem.
Trevor jumped to the ground. “What’s the matter?”
“God wrote in cursive, so I can’t read it.”
The boy took the letter from her hand and looked at the handwriting on the bottom of the page and also on the back.
“What did he say?” Analisa hopped and clapped her hands. “Tell me.”
Trevor scratched at his head, then read God’s words to her.
Dear Analisa,
I’m sorry that your mother and father couldn’t stay long enough on earth to see you grow up, but I needed their help in Heaven. They miss you very much and send their love. We all hope that your uncle is giving you lots of hugs and finding time to take you to the park.
Your mom and dad have met an angel here. His name is Erik, and he looks a lot like you. They told him how they miss you and want to know that you are happy and safe.
Erik asked if he could be your guardian angel, and I have granted him permission to watch out for you. But please be careful when you’re climbing trees or crossing streets. Erik is still learning how to use his wings.
Your mom and dad send their love. And so does
Erik.
Love,
God
Analisa quickly scanned the treetop in search of her angel, but all she saw was an empty bird’s nest and a broken kite. Then she searched all around her.
“What are you looking for?” Trevor asked.
“Erik.”
“Aw, come on.” Trevor scrunched his face and shook his head. “You don’t really think God answered that letter, do you?”
Analisa scrunched her face right back at him. “Yes, I do. Who else would know the name of my very own guardian angel?”
Trevor opened his mouth to say something, then clamped his lips shut.
Maybe he realized he was wrong.
She looked from one side of the tree to the other, checking all the branches and hoping to spot a flutter of white wings or the sparkle of a gold halo.
“You’re not going to see anything,” Trevor said.
Analisa crossed her arms and frowned. She opened her mouth to stick out her tongue, but decided not to.
Once, when she and her friend Soledad were arguing about who got to keep the pretty blue marble and who got to keep the plain brown one, Analisa had gotten mad and stuck out her tongue. But Mommy had scolded her, saying it wasn’t very nice.
“Even if there is such a thing as angels,” Trevor said, “I don’t think you can see them unless they want you to.”
Trevor
