Angels in My Hair Read Online Free PDF

the
other side of the wall along the back of all the gardens. It was
a wonderful big wall that ran the length of the road and Da
built a ladder for us so we could get up on it without
destroying our shoes. It was a great wall for walking – good
and wide so we could move along it safely – and this was how
we travelled from one house to another, or to the fields down
the way. I loved that wall, and all I could see from standing on
top of it.
    Rosaleen became my best friend. She lived in a big posh
house at the other side of the wall, about six houses away, and
most of the time we visited each other via the wall, rather than
going the long way around. She came from a large family, too,
but some of her siblings were already grown up and had left
home. I knew her little sister Caroline and her brother
Michael, who was eight years older than her. Rosaleen was tall
and skinny with long dark straight hair and she was full of fun
and laughed a lot. I love spending time with her and her
family, and, in fact, I spent more time with them than with my
own family.
    Rosaleen's father was German, I think, and a big strong man
with dark hair which was starting to go grey. He was away on
business a lot of the time, but when he was there he was very
good to Rosaleen and her brother and sister – and to me. On a
Sunday he would buy a little bag of sweets for each of the
children and I was very pleased and proud that he always
included me – he included me in everything. There might only
be six or eight sweets in the bag, but they were gorgeous and
I'd try to make them last as long as possible.
    There was another Sunday ritual in Rosaleen's house that I
loved: her mother would read us a story. We'd all go to her
bedroom and sit on the bed and sometimes it would just be
Rosaleen, Caroline and I, and sometimes Michael or one of my
sisters joined us, too. Rosaleen's mother was wonderful at
reading stories, and we would all sit and listen enraptured for
an hour or so before she would send us away. Sometimes the
books were very long and it would take weeks for her to finish
reading it. One of my favourites was A Secret Garden by
Frances Hodgson Burnett.
    There was a big wooden swing in our garden, which Da
repaired so it went really high. I played on that swing for hours
on end, and while I was sat on it the angels taught me a lot of
simple lessons about life and living. In fact, often while I was
there in body, I was in another world. As I sat there the angels
showed me some wonderful and very magical things.
    Sometimes when I was alone on the swing one of the angels
would say, 'Lorna, stretch out your hand, we have something
to show you'. Then the angel would put something tiny in my
hand and, as the little thing touched my palm, the angel would
take away her hand and a light would start to materialise there.
Sometimes this light looked like a little star or a daisy, then
this would start to grow, almost as if it were coming alive. As
it grew and grew it started to glow and a bright yellow light
came from it. The light rose up from my hand and went
upwards, getting brighter all the time until it partially
obscured the sun which allowed me to look directly at the sun
without squinting or hurting my eyes. Then I would see a most
wonderful sight reflected back, as if it were a mirror – a
beautiful face, like a human face, smiling down at me.
    The first time this happened the angels told me that this was
the Queen of the Angels. They liked to use terms that made
sense to me as a child: they reminded me of the fairy tales I
knew and that the Queen was like a mother, just as my mother
was like the Queen of my family. The angels explained that
this person was the Queen of the angels, the mother of the
universe, the mother of creation, the mother of all of the
angels. All of a sudden, the yellow orb in which I had seen the
face exploded into millions of little pieces and fell like golden
streamers coming from the sun.
    Over the years the angels have