Perhaps?

Name:            Felicity
Email:           mattandfliss@hotmail.com
Location:        Italy
Type:            Angel
Date:            Wednesday, May 24, 2000
Time:            11:16 AM

The summer before university, I was on holiday in Italy; a week before I was due to come home I became very ill. My stomach cramped up to such an extent that I was unable to stand up, it felt as if someone had stabbed me. 

There, in the middle of Sienna Cathedral I turned white, and then green. My boyfriend, and some helpful passers-by hailed a cab to take me to hospital. The driver drove like the wind and never charged us a lire. At the hospital my boyfriend was not allowed to enter the casualty ward with me - no body else had been admitted and the bed was screened off from the totally empty ward by thick plastic curtains. 

My Italian was very poor and my boyfriend had tucked a dictionary into my pocket when they wouldn't allow him to come in with me. He sat on a chair outside the entrance to the ward for the entire day. The doctors prodded me about, gave me painkillers and put me on two drips - their English was as bad as my Italian and even now I am not sure exactly what was diagnosed. Once I was hooked up, they left me and told me (with sign language and much pointing at the dictionary) to sleep for a couple of hours until the drips had gone through. 

Feeling sick, in pain, a little scarred and very sorry for my self I began to cry, especially for my mother. After a while a little old lady poked her head round the curtain, "Oh bambino!", she exclaimed and hobbled in. She looked like the consummate Italian Mama in a black dress printed in tiny flowers and a black cardigan, she had a big basket of shopping with her. She came over to the bed and began to stroke my head while I cried; I kept telling her how I couldn't understand the doctors and that I just wanted my mother. She plainly couldn't speak English but just kept repeating, "Mi piccolo bambino" (my little baby - I think!) and stroking my hair and holding my hand. I began to feel much better and stopped crying. 

Suddenly a doctor and a nurse came in to check on me, disorientated I never saw her leave, never saw her being asked to leave, never saw her again. My boyfriend was by the entrance to the ward the whole time, the hospital seemed very quite and he didn't see anyone but doctors and nurses. It seems strange that, considering my boyfriend was not allowed in to be with me that this little lady slipped through the watchful eyes of the staff. I think she was an angel. 

Maybe she was a manifestation of a mother Angel, interpreted by my confused mind as an Italian Mama; maybe she was a real person; maybe the passers by and the cab driver who didn't charge were all angels too. I truly believe that angels exist and are amongst us, they don't always look special and sparkly, all wings and shining lights, sometimes they look just like us. I also believe that we are all beings of light and have the potential to be other people's angels too - next time someone needs help or comfort, put down what you are doing, stop going where you are going, let your heart grow wings, mentally polish your halo and grab your chance to be somebody else's angel.