Her name was Celeste. A name I wouldn’t mind having. I mean, I just love the word ‘celestial’. It’s such a magical name. Her auburn hair was pinned back and tucked under her uniform hat with a few wavy strands falling off to the side of her face. She had sparkly eyes and fair skin. A cheery personality with a delightful tone in her voice. She was a spirit lifter. A great fairy godmother. She exuded a loving mama presence. A total Earth Angel.
She worked as a barista in a local café I often visit, although I could easily see her in a summer straw hat working in her flowering garden and adjusting garden gnomes and angel statues in full bliss. I could see her smiling in content as she watched the butterflies steady themselves on her vibrant colored perennials. Every so often she may gaze at the swaying trees in her yard and image a nice wicker chair or two for her next garden décor purchase which she will have to save up for. She might be digging in the earth and humming a song she learned from her grandmother who sang the same song in the kitchen while cooking. She just seemed like that type.
And, today, I went to visit her at the café. An interaction I look forward to. She greeted me with a smile and bubbly voice that seemed very familiar…as if I was her daughter. She treated everyone like this. Welcoming them in with love and joy. I softly put my order in and she quickly began crafting my coffee behind the counter. She had a timing to this and new the exact moment to let the coffee sit and make her way to the register to collect my payment. She shyly read me the total and apologized that she had to charge me extra for choosing soy instead of regular milk. I assured her it was totally fine. She was relieved and returned to her smile. The sound of the register door slamming signaled me to walk over to the end of the counter where my drink was gently waiting. She met me there and handed it over to me and the words that slow danced out of her mouth were, “Here, I give you my heart.”
I thanked her with a deepness that I knew she could feel and then I walked out the door, and to my car. Got inside and placed my coffee in the holder. Put my key in the ignition and paused to shed a few tears. The happy kind of miracle tears. The ones that remind you that life is good and there are angels everywhere helping, supporting and guiding you. It was in this moment that I felt the touch of an angel. I drove home and drank my coffee in peace, tranquility, and great awareness of the love in each ounce.
She worked as a barista in a local café I often visit, although I could easily see her in a summer straw hat working in her flowering garden and adjusting garden gnomes and angel statues in full bliss. I could see her smiling in content as she watched the butterflies steady themselves on her vibrant colored perennials. Every so often she may gaze at the swaying trees in her yard and image a nice wicker chair or two for her next garden décor purchase which she will have to save up for. She might be digging in the earth and humming a song she learned from her grandmother who sang the same song in the kitchen while cooking. She just seemed like that type.
And, today, I went to visit her at the café. An interaction I look forward to. She greeted me with a smile and bubbly voice that seemed very familiar…as if I was her daughter. She treated everyone like this. Welcoming them in with love and joy. I softly put my order in and she quickly began crafting my coffee behind the counter. She had a timing to this and new the exact moment to let the coffee sit and make her way to the register to collect my payment. She shyly read me the total and apologized that she had to charge me extra for choosing soy instead of regular milk. I assured her it was totally fine. She was relieved and returned to her smile. The sound of the register door slamming signaled me to walk over to the end of the counter where my drink was gently waiting. She met me there and handed it over to me and the words that slow danced out of her mouth were, “Here, I give you my heart.”
I thanked her with a deepness that I knew she could feel and then I walked out the door, and to my car. Got inside and placed my coffee in the holder. Put my key in the ignition and paused to shed a few tears. The happy kind of miracle tears. The ones that remind you that life is good and there are angels everywhere helping, supporting and guiding you. It was in this moment that I felt the touch of an angel. I drove home and drank my coffee in peace, tranquility, and great awareness of the love in each ounce.
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