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Gab rushed to the aid of a young child within seconds of a fatal accident.
The drunk driver was speeding through a residential area, and a little boy was directly in the path of a madman.  Gab, an angel,  had saved the day; the driver sped away; and there in scattered multiple pieces, the little boy’s bike lay on the roadway.

Michael, also an angel, decoded and destroyed a nuclear bomb, saving the entire continent.  Both angels were dispatched to assist people regardless of their bent in life.  It was just another day of manifested love toward mere mortals.  Yet again, help had arrived from Paradise.  How sad it must be sometimes for angels to interact with such loveless humans.

Feeling greatly relieved of what could have been, Michael smiled as he rejoiced with tears.  In spite of the pain, Michael and his fellow angels are always the same; never asking, “Will they ever change?”  Or “Do I have to?”

Gab exited the scene of the accident and waited for his next assignment.
The young child, Timmy by name, after being seen by the hospital doctor, was released and taken home by his parents.   All the way home, Timmy shared with his mom and dad what he saw and felt in the accident.  They did their best to be reassuring, but they thought that Timmy had been shaken up.

He was indicating abnormal experiences that happened to him during the accident. Timmy told his parents that just as the car was about to hit him, 
he felt something or someone lift him from the bike and sat him to the side of the street.  Gab had done things like that,  not once, twice, or even thrice.
Indeed, hundreds of times; and it was never routine, but personal, and always a source of pure joy.                                                                                

As Gab, Michael, and other angels are dispatched to Planet Earth, they often notice a huge area to which they are forbitten to go.  They have been told that it is a reserved place designed for ‘the evil one and his evil angels’.  I can only imagine the sorrow and pain they feel each time they pass by this place of darkness and horror.  They are not robots who have no emotions.  

Just as they rejoice over good things, most likely they weep over the bad.  I can see them weeping for the drunk driver. I also see them weeping for the failed relations between nations. When I think about it, I would prefer to ‘not see angels weep’.
05032016  PS Contest, Even The Angels Wept, by John Lawless
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