The rather sad summer continues with a rainy Saturday. I am on my way home and I am glad that it stopped raining. From the shrubbery a dog jumps out and shakes the water out which he probably got from the little stream. On the path is an elderly woman with a buggy but that one was empty. And suddenly from the thickest shrubbery a little blond angel with wellies, black leggings and an incredible smile crawls out. She is wet too but perhaps a little less than the dog.
The child is very young, I estimate not even two years old, but apparently has courage and bravery for twenty. The grandmother calls her but the little thing only has eyes for me. I like her very much. And then I ask her whether she would like to come with me. She nods and walks with a smile in my direction. It warmed my heart. It feels good, this trust of her smile. With heavy heart I turn to her grandmother who is calling her. But the little one had no intention of obeying her grandmother. At the end brute force wins and the little angel is carried to the buggy.
Yes, I liked this encounter; one should meet angels more often and even better if they would like to come along.