An Angel of Hope stands in Silver Springs Cemetery in Stow, Ohio . The angel reaches, arms outstretched, as if bestowing a gift on those before her. She is doing just that.
Inspired by Richard Paul Evans' book, The Christmas Box, in which a grieving mother visits an angel statue every day, readers asked where they could visit an Angel. Evans commissioned Jared and Ortho Fairbanks, of Salt Lake City, to design an angel statue for that city. Evans had no idea that grieving parents everywhere would want their own angel, and at last count, 106 Angels of Hope are doing duty around this country.
The Angels of Hope are giving peace, tears, relief, and freedom to express grief to parents and families who have lost children. No age, race, cause of death or time passed matters: All grievers are equal at the feet of an Angel.
I know this because I have attended Angel of Hope Ceremonies in Stow since losing Philip over five years ago. I go there with my friend, Suzy, who lost her daughter, Ellen, four years ago. My darling husband, Randy, goes with us as escort, and provides tissues, umbrellas, a ride to and fro, then quietly sheds his own tears for Philip, Ellen, and all of the families standing before the Angel of Hope.
This event was recently held in coordination with the Compassionate Friends Worldwide Candle Lighting, when families who lost children light a candle simultaneously around the world. The Compassionate Friends, begun in England, is an organization to help bereaved parents, and has provided support for over forty years in the United States, with over 600 chapters now active.
On a cold December Sunday evening, Suzy, Randy and I walked across the small cemetery to the Angel. Graves glowed throughout the cemetery, with battery-lit luminerias. Near the statue are graves of babies, small markers facing the Angel of Hope. Names of children are etched into bricks in the patio that surrounds the statue.
We stood, this time, in cold, clear weather, while the founders of the project welcomed people, passed out candles, then read poems, prayers, and shared understanding with those gathered before the Angel.
We've stood there in blowing wind, freezing cold, and hideous heat, as ceremonies take place both in winter and summer. Balloons with glittery lights inside are sent up to Heaven at the winter event. They've been beaten down by blizzardy gusts, snow and sleet, but this time they went straight up! In summer heat, doves of peace fly Heavenward, no matter the weather.
The most amazing thing is the people.......over 450 at this recent event.
Grief is often very lonely: "I am the only person who ever felt this way, who lost a child."
Not true!
As we stand near the Angel, we feel the presence of others arriving, and soon realize the crowd behind us, around us, to the sides of us...........ALL who are there to honor and remember a child. We have come together for a few minutes, summer and winter, to pause, get strength from each other, share our grief, unite in a ceremony, and walk away knowing that we are NOT "the only person......"
Beautiful music is part of the ceremonies. Music brings up emotions and memories, so many of us do not listen to it anymore. Somehow, at this place, it helps to LET us feel, LET us cry, and because we are all together, this is OK. We are many. We cry together.
There are words from a pastor, and a Jewish prayer where we join in to respond, "We will remember them............. " We know that the death of a child can come to ANY family.
This December it was bitterly cold out there. A young woman brought her little boy to place flowers on the grave of the sister he will never know. The woman knelt on the ground in front of me, her young son close to her side, tears streaming down her face, while she loved and kissed that little boy.......her precious son.........understanding, more, perhaps, than many other mothers, how blessed she is to have him.
We lit each others' candles until the cemetery was more aglow with candlelight, then raised them up to the sky in unison. We wept. We cried with "strangers," and yet NOT strangers.............because we all know the hideous grief we share. Afterwards, parents lay flowers at the feet of the Angel, and when we leave, huge bouquets drape her feet.
We are NOT alone. We are understood. We understand.
On the way home, a deep well of grief is released by the beauty of the event, then bit by bit, conversation returns, tears dry, we go back to the "new normalcy" that will never feel normal. Somehow "strangers" may have conveyed to each other more understanding than people whose names and faces we do know.
The Angel of Hope is out there in the dark as I type this. There may be a parent sitting on a bench next to her. If not now, then tomorrow. It is a place of peace and hope, where tears may unashamedly flow, and sometimes it provides a soft place to be when everything is too much to bear.
It is said that an angel is a celestial being who acts as an intermediary between Heaven and Earth. I am sure there are earthly angels also, as there have been many angels in my life, human and bronze.
For more information, or to find an Angel of Hope near you, visit www.richardpaulevans.com , and click on "Angel Statues."
Copyright: KP Gillenwater
