They found her in the early morning, she was curled up in a fetal position inside the depression of a large rock. The sharp cool tang of mountain mist still clinging to low hanging clouds. They had almost missed her, except for an ethereal glow that surrounded her … and those sounds; unearthly, softly penetrating.

Not the kind of sound you associate from hearing, but one felt inside your mind, your heart. A mourning, soul searing sound that was gut wrenching in it’s sadness.

The children found her first and then the adult villagers came. All standing quietly, a few feet away staring in awe. They’d never seen an angel before. And no one had ever heard of an angel crying.

The villagers spoke quietly between themselves in whispers. “Do angels cry?” “What’s she doing here?” “How did she get here?” “Why is she here?”

And then a small child spoke the words that were foremost in everyone’s thoughts, “Why is she crying?”

No one knew.

The crowds grew larger during the day, still standing respectfully at a distance but when the clouds cleared away they noticed her teardrops turning to gold as they landed by her feet and trickled into the crevaces pooling around her.

“Look” one of the villagers shouted. She’s crying tears of gold, all else was forgotten as the crowd surged forward to collect the fallen golden teardrops that lay everywhere around the little angel. But before they could reach her they began to hear a second sound. This one more like a soft growing thunder in the sky.

Above them they saw first one and then another until there was gathered above them a mighty host of angels, soaring and gliding angrily above and around the sobbing little angel. Her tear drops rolling down her pale cheeks turning into sparkling gold as each one struck the rocks making a small pinging noise.

The hovering angels swooped down forming a protective circle around the angel.

The villager’s were angry but wary of the large angels. “Why do you stop us, one asked, “there is gold laying here. “Ours for the taking.”

One of the Angels landed in front of the speaker. “Do you know the true value of each of these teardrops?” He asked. “Do you truly understand what you are racing to have?”

There was silence.

“Then I will tell you.” He gestured to the crying angel. “She, our most special little one, is the true guardian angel for all human life on your Earth. For countless millenium she has watched mankind kill one another. First for survival, then from fear, then from mistaken religious beliefs and power and now from greed.

Today, on your planet, the worth and value of your civilization is not based on the health and well being of each human but on how much money you have. She has waited and waited for humans to learn that there is no greater value than the worth of a single human life, and you have not learned this.

And so now, for each human killed by another human, she sheds a tear of gold. And that is the value of her tears of gold. Each fallen tear, a fallen human life. She thinks, hopefully, you might actually understand if she cries enough tears while you continue to take each other’s lives (as if it is something that was ever acceptable) while making creative excuses used to rationalize the truth  (unwillingness to be involved, beliefs, intolerance, power, riches,) your inability and unwillingness to understand, grow and learn.

So here’s the lesson for today. Each time a human willfully takes or allows the life of another to be taken there is a new rate of exchange to think on “A golden teardrop = one human life!” It really is about understanding the value and worth of what is really important! Life is – anything less is not acceptable!

~

Penny L Howe,