This was the second piece I composed while hosting the angels for a week in my studio.

A friend (one to whom I had sent the angels after I had them) said to me, the other day, "I wonder why I had to have someone else tell me that I had angels with me, when I know that really, they must be with me all of the time."

I felt the same way. Why did I forget for so many years, that I am surrounded by loving spirits and guardian angels? Why did I forget the love and goodwill that enfolds me every moment of the day and night?

When I was a little girl, I had an old prayer book that had been my father's when he was a boy. My father was raised as a Catholic. My mother was a Cumberland Presbyterian. My mother took me to church with her when I was a little girl and I still have so many wonderful memories of the kind souls who cared for me in that little church. But when I was an older girl, I was baptized at St. Mary's Catholic Church and actually, became the church organist there. That was back when the Mass was still in Latin. I loved the mysteries and rituals of the Catholic church. I especially loved the Gregorian chants.

Anyway, I remember every night I used to say the prayer that was in my father's old Catholic prayer book. It was not a prayer to Mary, to Jesus, to the Holy Spirit or God the Father. It was a prayer to my Guardian Angel.

I had been wondering what had become of that prayer book. Then, a couple of months ago, I was at my sister's house and spotted it on top of a pile of books in her living room. She let me take it home.

Here is the prayer entitled "To Our Guardian Angel" from that old book.

Angel of God, my guardian dear,

To whom His love commits me here,

Ever this day be at my side,

To light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.



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A Pattern (I still couldn't see)

On Monday, my second day with the angels, things continued much as they had on Sunday. I went into the studio after lunch and lit the candle. I flipped through some hymnals looking for a song that called out to be recorded. In the fall, I had started an ongoing project called "Hymns My Mother Sang."

My mother was raised in a Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Sugar Tree, Tennessee. Her mother was the organist at that tiny church, and I remember her telling me that the church doors never opened that they weren't there. During the Depression, there was no money for a piano, so my mother never learned to play, but when I was little, I remember she used to pick out a few tunes by ear on the old upright in our living room. With one chord, she invariably and haltingly picked out a hymn.

Anyway, I began flipping through my collection of old hymnals, but I couldn't find anything that I wanted to play. So, I began diddling a little bit on the keyboard. I liked my improvisation and was reluctant to go back to the hymnals. Eventually, I'd spent the whole afternoon on a new piano composition and while I was working, the phrase "Some Have Entertained Angels" kept repeating in my mind. Hmmm....I decided that must be the name of my new piece.

A pattern was starting to develop, but I still couldn't see it. I wondered why the angels didn't help me write or record some hymns for my new Dogwood Daughter website. Oh well, I figured maybe they would the next day and I really liked my new piece anyway.

I recorded it, suddenly realized I was VERY tired and went to bed, again, in the studio with the angels. It was late and my husband was already fast asleep in the house. In fact, while the angels were here, my husband hardly saw me--I stayed up later than usual all week, composing and recording. Again, I wonder, do angels sleep?