It was winter in the Northwest.
And our suburban home
was warm, but you could sled
on my icy heart.
I gazed out my bedroom window.
Was I supposed to believe?
Because I didn’t understand
anything other than the rate
of my failure.
The success rate
over such a date
spelled disastrous ambition
but that’s because
I disregarded the warning signs
and lacked acceptance
of the blame and the pain
I’d caused my mom.
In trouble with the cops
and cheating on a test
in detention.
“What am I going to do with you?”
Mom said this when we got home.
I promised each time
that my days of falling short
of the grace of God concluded
after a nightmare with an angel
and the relief of paying for my
sins in hell, because that’s what
I deserved.
But in my senior year, a minister
and his daughter moved into the home
across the street and entered my life.
Nora knocked on my door.
Mom told me a friend was here to talk.
I held the rail and descended the stairs.
And there Nora stood in the doorway.
She chatted with Mom.
I watched Nora tuck her long, dark
bangs behind her ear.
I swallowed hard.
I believed in something.
What, I didn’t know.
But it had something to do with angels.
I cleared my throat.
Mom said she’d let us talk.
Mom winked at Nora.
And Nora flashed a confident smile.
We talked at school, but I didn’t study her
beauty.
Maybe I didn’t look because I knew I’d find what I’d been trying to push away.
I’d never been this close to an angel.
Nora was half an inch taller than I was.
And my tough guy facade melted into a puddle
beneath my feet when she asked me if I’d like
to attend a flick.
I shook my head and asked her to repeat several times.
Nora repeated the question as she stood
before me, wearing a skirt and tall boots.
Before I could finish asking, Mom approved.
I grabbed my coat, and we left in her car.
Nora drove faster than I did.
“Thought I was a square, didn’t ya?” Nora said, shooting me a side glance and returning her eyes to the road.
“What do you want with me?” I said, arching a brow. I shifted in my seat, watching her lips.
Nora shrugged. “Can’t a girl have fun with a cute guy?”
I blushed hard. “I’m not exactly the best person.”
We continued to trail windy roads, and last week’s snow still melted.
I placed my hands near the vents, blasting warm air.
“You got into a few fights,” Nora said. “So what?”
“Are you preaching to me?” I screwed up my face.
Nora looked over and back at the road. “Why would I do that? You already believe.”
I released the tension in my chest
and sank into my seat.
“You’re right,” I said. “I believe.”
We continued the winding road of life’s faults and the waves we made, convincing others to believe that redemption is just a prayer away.
We folded our hands and prayed our sins away.