It was a brilliantly sunny day, the day I met an angel. He was poor, disabled and collecting for a charity - despite his own woes he was still thinking of others. He was dressed in shabby clothes, there was stubble on his chin, and he sat there patiently with kindly eyes waiting for the charity of his fellow man. I dug my hands into my pocket and pulled out a dollar and half and went to put it in his tin. He started telling me about Egypt and I smiled back. I like stories and other cultures. He said they cure skin problems like acne by rubbing urine into the face before a shower, that the acid was good for the skin. Then he told me I'd have to tell people one day, tell them what I did. I knew what he meant but it made no sense that he should know. I'm shy, I prefer anonymity, so that isn't easy, maybe it's my last fear.


"We're your guardian angels," Gabby says, her voice a little shaky but her eyes sparkling.

"You mean," I say slowly, taking in my situation, "You're my guardians?"

"Pretty much," she sits herself next to me, Alex not far behind. When I meet his chocolate brown eyes, they sparkle back at me with hope. I smile, excepting them for who they really are.

By aria, December 29, 2014.