Once upon a time, there lived a very old man whose son was a lawyer.

One day, while at his evening prayers, an Angel appeared to him.

Dressed in the finest Eve St. Laurence balloon dress anyone has ever seen, with over fifteen thousand hand-cut glass sequins hand-sewn onto his wings, the Angel was brushing his hair in a seated position when he appeared. He soon fell to the floor with an undignified thump.

The old man was much too old to be surprised. He helped the Angel up and brushed him off.

The Angel shook his wings into place like a sparrow, then tried to find a pocket to put the brush in, to no avail.

The old man sat on his ancient bed and asked, without a trace of fear, "Have you come to take me to heaven?"

The Angel look at him directly for the first time, then shook his head. "I'm not sure."

Now, the old man was surprised. "You don't know me?"

"Well, as you can see, old Jo kinda sent me down while I was preparing for the visitation. I've never been down before and I wanted to look my best. I left my instructions on the table. I don't know what to do now. They never covered this in the classes at the Angelry."

The old man was a bit angry. He scratched his beard furiously. He stamped his foot. He stood up. "Fine thing. I live my life like I'm supposed to, doing my very best to incur God's favor, and this is what I get when he chooses to communicate with me."

"What did you expect, perfection?," asked the Angel.

"Why couldn't it have been my Guardian Angel? It's done such a great job."

"Oh, those are only for fools and children," said the Angel. "Can't go around giving everybody one."

"I hope you get punished for this. I'm very displeased."

"Oh, no. Embarassment is our punishment. Old Jo made us so that we embarrass very easily. That way we learn from our mistakes."

That made the old man think for a minute. He sat back down. "That makes sense," he said. "But."

"Yes. But.," said the Angel. "What am I going to do now?"

"Can't you go back and get the instructions?"

"How to return was part of the instructions."

The old man was taken aback once more. "You can't call out and he will hear you?"

"Oh, no. Too busy. Takes at least six months of supplication to get old Jo's attention normally. But, at the moment, there are at least four widely separated planets that have developed the printing press and he's frantically trying to keep the Scriptures from being the first thing printed on a mass scale."

The just-mentioned concept was overwhelming to the old man. He fainted.

The Angel arranged himself in the window sill and brushed his hair.

When the old man finally came to, he sat up and stared at the Angel. "How do I know that you're not sent from that other fellow? How do I know that you were not sent to test my faith?"

The Angel set the brush down and thought.

"How do I know that you weren't sent to unsettle my ideas about God?," asked the old man.

"How do you know anything?," asked the Angel.

"That is exactly the kind of question the other fellow would ask!"

"Oh, really?," asked the Angel. "You've met him? Good for you. I've never seen him. What does he look like?"

The old man fell silent. He could see no way he would benefit from the discussion. He stared at the Angel.

The Angel stared at him.

For almost an hour, nothing was said. Then the old man spoke, "I'll have to ask you to leave. I need to go to sleep. I don't want a stranger in my house while I'm trying to sleep. Please go."

"Where?"

"I don't care. Just go. You have done nothing for me but unsettle me and make me angry. Who ever you are, you are not being very nice to an old man."

The Angel blushed, "What can I do? I have no place to go. Let me make you an offer. Maybe that will settle your mind and let you let me stay."

The old man glared at him. "Offer? What? Are you allowed to act on your own?"

"Under certain circumstances. What I offer you has been offered to a very small bunch of people and animals. It is a wish."

"A wish?"

"Yes," said the Angel. "Anything you want."

The old man stared at him for an hour again. Then he said, "Let me get my son."

"Why?"

"He is a lawyer."

The Angel recoiled in horror and crossed his index fingers in front of his face, "OH,NO!"

The old man laughed. "You're afraid of a lawyer?"

"Oh, yes," said the Angel hoarsely. "And theologians, advertising men and, worst of all," here his voice fell into a lower register, "television producers."

The old man couldn't stop laughing, "Ah, you are so funny! How can you be afraid of mere humans?"

"Please, please don't call your son, the lawyer. Please, don't!"

The old man shifted down to a chuckle, "Why not? What can he do to you?"

"He can make me reconsider my own existence and we exist by faith. A really bad lawyer can make an angel wink out!"

The chuckle was gone now, too. "This ain't funny. Why would God make something that fragile? I don't believe you. You must belong to that other fellow."

"Why do you keep referring to 'that other fellow'? Why don't you just call him Jesse Helms and be done with it?"

The old man stood up, "That's not funny, either! And I'm not talking about him! I'm talking about that fellow who is the opposite of God!"

"Oh, you mean Eli, his twin brother?"

The old man fell speechless, but not unconscious. He scratched his beard furiously. He knitted his brows.

"You upset very easily for a man who has spent his life avoiding injustice and temptation."

The old man thought about that, then smiled maliciously, "I have never been vexed by an angel."

"Oh, haven't you? How do you know? Old Jo works in mischievous ways, his tricks to perform."

"Blasphemy!," shouted the old man.

"Gesundheit."

"Not funny! I'm going to call my son. I am a simple, uneducated man. I cannot handle this sophistry, but a lawyer can. Stay right there."

"NO! Please! Don't bring him here. Why do you need a lawyer? I offered you a simple wish. What's the problem?"

The old man looked at the angel with pity. "A simple wish, eh? For anything? That is a problem. How can I not ask for counsel when making the only wish I have ever been offered? What if I wish for something and five minutes later it turns out I need something much more than what I wished for? What if I make a wish and it causes a hardship on someone else? How can I know all the consequences? And what if I spend a lot of time and effort figuring out what to wish for and it turns out that through some rule or circumstance that you're not aware of, I can't have it?"

The Angel took his turn to stare. "Your son did not carve the desire to be a lawyer out of thin air. He was disposed to it from the womb, from the way you just spieled at me. Look, I said that very few people have ever been offered a wish. They are very smart, discerning people who would not take such an opportunity lightly. I mean, old what's-his-face, the other fellow, gives wishes and then makes you pay for it. Old Jo, on the other hand, only gives it to those who have already earned it."

"You said you left the paperwork at home. How do you know I'm worthy?"

"Oh, I've seen your chapter in the Book of Life. Very impressive. I'm sure Jo wouldn't mind my giving you a wish. It would sure lessen the embarrassment of this episode. Come on, you help me, I help you."

The old man stood. "You tell me I've earned it, so I don't have to be suspicious about getting something I don't deserve. Yet, you are tempting me. This is a test of some kind."

"Maybe", admitted the Angel. "I wouldn't put it past him to set this up as a test for us both."

"That's another thing," said the old man. "You don't seem very respectful of God. How can you do his will and not follow his example?"

"You expect me to be an atuomaton? Just a walking finger on the arm of God? No thoughts, no feelings, no judgement? He creates nothing without some kind of free will. He doesn't like to be surrounded by 'yes' men. He tried that once and they went out and started their own business in competition with him. Where do you think that other fellow came from? You want agreement every time, you create liars. That is a universal tenet of management. I am an angel of his creation. I am in his image. I am influenced by his example. I am not constrained from considering him an equal. He has made mistakes and he has learned from them. So have you. Why should I not be allowed to, too?

The old man sat back down on his bed, then stretched out with his head on his ancient pillow and crossed his ankles in thought. He thought for a long time and went to sleep.

When he woke up, it was day. He looked at his watch. It was eleven o'clock. He looked around. The Angel was seated on the floor playing with the cat. The old man sat up and stretched, counting the crunches as his bones settled into place.

The Angel let the cat go and stood. "Well? What have you decided?"

"I shall pray."

The old man knelt carefully at the side of his bed and bowed his head, resting it on his folded hands.

As he prayed, the Angel began to fade.

"What are you doing?",cried the Angel.

From the hands came the muffled voice of the old man, "I wished that the Lord would let me live my life without talking to anymore angels."

The Angel was a mere wisp of an outline now.

"Oh, sure, thanks, buddy," were his last words.

When the old man got up, he was alone. He smiled. Then he went back to bed.

10/25/93