Do You Believe in Angels?

I remember vividly when I first met you: I had just turned 14 and it was my first camp ever. You were on my team for volleyball and, after we won, you started to do some odd chicken/victory dance with your friends. I thought you were staff, and imagine my surprise when I found out I was three months older then you. You were really the older one though and I was the younger. That’s the way it always has been. I remember when I first saw you I felt different being around you then I did around all the others, almost like there was something about you that I could not explain.
I was 14 though, brash and stupid, and for the first year of our friendship I thought that you and your “spiritualness” were dumb. I tried to be a tough guy, I tried to be a smart guy, I tried to be something that I wasn’t and yet you loved me regardless of it. I could not explain your reasons for still doing such things and so I would intentionally do wrong just to spite you. But every time I would, you never got mad at me for it, never made me feel condemned. You just gave me another one of your smiles, the type that make your eyes turn all sparkly and shine, and inside I knew that it wouldn’t matter what I would do, you’d somehow find a way to love and forgive me for it. It was that love and forgiveness that I will never forget. It was the first, genuine taste of it that I ever had outside of my own private family and, for the first time in my life, I truly felt like I had a friend.
We grew together, you and I—through those pubescent years that are always so difficult to cope with. It seems a strange thing but, whenever I would go through something you would go through it nearly at the same time, or a little before, or after. I drew off your experiences and, whenever I needed sound advice, I knew I could turn to you… even if I didn’t like what you had to say. I could tell you anything—every doubt, every worry, every fear—and feel perfectly secure in knowing that you would listen and, even if I didn’t understand myself, you would try to understand me.
And then, one year ago, when I felt my gut and soul torn out of me you were there beside me: never faltering, always sure, making sure that I kept holding on, guiding me even if you yourself could only see a few feet ahead. I can honestly say that thanks to you I survived those days, in more ways then just spiritually or emotionally. The night it all began I remember you holding me as I shivered, like a child in your arms. You didn’t say anything, just let me hold onto you; somehow you knew that your calming presence was more then enough to carry me through, more then any words could say.
You’ve always been the best to me and I can honestly, truly, say that knowing you and being so close to you has been the best honor I ever have or will receive. And now on this, your eighteenth birthday, I want to congratulate you and I want you to know how much you’ll always mean to me. This year will be full of hopes for you, darling: my hopes for you and your dreams. I hope the FDTP treats you right and you come out of it stronger then ever before. I hope that you will find contentment in the calling that the Lord has for you. I hope that you’ll go to Brazil like you always talked about and find that man that you’ve always dreamed of. A good guy, someone that treats you like the beautiful goddess you are and not the human you pretend to be.
A couple of weeks ago, at the EXIT festival, I was witnessing to a hippy about the spirit world. He was skeptical and asked me if I believed in Angels. Without thinking, a picture of you with your dreamy smile appeared in my mind and I left it there for a few moments, savoring the warm feeling it brought to me. “Yes, I do.” Was my calm reply, “I’ve seen them.”
Thank you for being that angel to me darling—for loving a lonely little poet-boy like me…I’ll always be here for you like you’ve always been here for me. HAPPY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY!!!!