Today was Pamela’s first day at her new job, so I checked in on her to wish her well for the new beginning. She was in high spirits, but I knew that it was very possible for those to shift quickly to the other extreme of deep anxiety.
My worries were unfounded. The day began with meetings, which were dull at worst, and then Pamela spent a fruitful few hours with Mrs. Kohn, making plans for the layout of their classroom, the syllabus, and their students. There will be one more week before Pamela meets the children, but she is already very excited about that day.
Really, I am writing not about her, but because it occurred to her late in the day that this was the night of Andrew’s date, and she took a moment to say a little prayer for the date’s success. Well, I thought, if that is not why I am here, what is my purpose? So I went to find Andrew.
He was just about to leave his house, and he was deeply nervous. It seems that men are just as susceptible to the pressure of aesthetic perfection as women are—Andrew had changed his shirt twice and was thinking about changing it again. I, however, thought he looked quite handsome and told him so, and some of his worry decreased.
He was to meet the woman—her name is Lindsay—at a park midway between his apartment and her workplace, and from there they would walk to a restaurant for dinner. I did what I could to put him at ease, pointing out how lovely the evening was, how cheerful everyone looked—little things that do wonders for improving someone’s mood. Just to notice good things can give them positive influence over one’s outlook.
Andrew was already smiling when he saw Lindsay, but I knew the moment he caught her eye because his aura flared brightly. Hers did, too, at the same time, so I can tell that the connection is true. Still, I kept an eye on them as they went for their walk, listening to their conversation and reflecting some of the warmth they were generating back to them. By the time they reached the restaurant, they were hand-in-hand.
It has been so long since I have been involved with that first flare of a growing relationship—Lauren and Jonathan are not quite there yet, and the charges of my young friends are usually further along when they encounter problems that require my assistance. One does not really forget what such feelings are like, but I think it is true for both humans and angels that emotions are but imperfectly remembered. Until you feel the same thing many times, you cannot really remember the whole force of it.
I want that for Pamela. I want her to feel understood and admired and accepted. She has been growing stronger, becoming accustomed to being on her own, but still I want her to have the security and the safety of a relationship. In fact there is a man at the school who might suit—he teaches English, and though he is several years older than Pamela, she has looked at him with appreciation, so I know that there could be attraction between them. I will look into him and see what I can do.