Golden Wings Express

As I checked my mail one day as I always do, In the box was waiting a package with no clue Of who it was from, from whom it was sent, And for sure it puzzled me as did, its content. I could hear no ticking or no noise at all, Hence, the bomb squad I needn't then call. There wasn't any powder, dust, even smudges; Signs that could warn of one holding grudges. I shook it a little but there was no rattle, Turned it over for a clue that just might tattle. Still, nothing moved or shifted on the inside, As I became increasingly more mystified. So, to find the answers to the questions I sought About this package unknown to me'd been brought, The only choice left was to open it and see What was within this package and sent to me. I cut apart the heavy string all tied aroun'; I tore away the wrapping of a plain brown. I opened up the box, where tucked in tissue carefully, Was a glass, angel trinket with a note addressed to me. It read, "I saw you in the thrift store with your little girl, A pretty, precious child; clearly she's your pearl. When you placed this angel back upon the shelf, I read your face and heart and I couldn't help myself. As I listened to your words and heard what you said, Tears swelled my eyes as your sorrow I was fed. When you spoke of the sentiment of someone dear you lost, I knew the angel must be yours, regardless of the cost. Although you know me not, I've learned of your name And where you live to make this angel all yours to claim. I hope some joy I've brought to you to ease a bit your sorrow And may this angel do the same through your every day, tomorrow. Please know too, this angel represents an angel over you And your little girl so precious with eyes so bright and blue. There's no postage on this package and no return address, Because angels are Heaven sent by the Golden Wings Express!" At the risk of sounding redundant with words said before, No words can describe my feelings, though words I know galore. But there were no words that I could even say or speak, As the tears ran like torrents racing down my cheek. Overwhelmed, amazed, so grateful and yet, still mystified, But then, through God anything's possible when He's glorified! The trinket isn't any trinket as is inscribed my Mother's name, And you see, my daughter's and my Mother's name is the same. When just a little girl on my birthday, number six, While fussing with my hair, she liked to pretty, fix I made a promise to my Mother, that when I was grown, If I had a little girl, by her name she'd be known. The angel trinket had belonged to my Mother And when she passed away my selfish, heartless brother, Took over everything and sold all her things away; Breaking his promise he made to her on her dying day. We may think God is not watching when we are deeply grieving, When another does us wrong, as our joy they are thieving, But it is perfectly and so crystal clear to me, There's nothing He doesn't know; nothing He doesn't see. An Angel sent from Heaven with a Message Heaven sent, With an angel in a box to clearly represent, There are Angels watching, their assignments are from God, Over all of His children who on His Righteous Path, trod. 2018-04-23 07:28:00 (EDT) Written for 'Anonymous Angels - Poetry Contest' Sponsored by Yazmin Malik