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angels
who were pulling back the camouflage, they were able to do it
without disturbing the wasps, so I could stand there for ages
watching the insects without fear of being stung. I remember
going back to look for that wasps' nest later, only to discover
that adults had found it and poisoned the wasps, which made
me sad.
    The angels also often used to show me the cattle in the field
beyond the bank. They taught me to look at things differently
to the way others do; I wouldn't just glance at a cow, I would
really look to see everything about it: every line, every little
bump. The angels would make each detail glow or stand out
more than normal, so that I could really notice it. The angels
would also allow me to see into animals' eyes; even if they were
a long way away I could still see deep into those eyes. I was
being allowed to see things that most people never see. It was
fascinating. I could see all the light and energy and things that
were going on in and around the animal; sometimes it looked
as if there were balls of light dancing round the animals, other
times the energy would be flashing on and off. I would see a
calf in a cow's belly; sometimes I could hardly make it out, and
then the angels would tell me to look more carefully and I'd see
it. Sometimes, being honest, the calf looked like something all
gooey and moving – a bit like the jam my mother used to
make.
    I was so fascinated by everything the angels showed me
outside school, it's no wonder I had little time for what was
going on in the classroom. When the angels explained something
to me as a child I would think I understood their answer
fully, but as I grew older I began to get a deeper understanding
of what they meant.
    One of my friends at school was Marian, although I never
saw her outside of school. Whenever we left the hall to go to
the school building or to the church she would insist on
walking beside me. Even if the teachers paired her with
another girl, she would find a way of walking beside me and
she always wanted to ask questions. She used to wonder how
I knew so much, but I couldn't tell her about my angelic
teachers. One day, as we were walking through the playground
towards the church, she asked me to tell her about God. I was
so surprised I could hardly breathe. I looked at her and didn't
know what to say. Eventually I said, 'The teachers and priest
tell us about God, so why are you asking me?' I was trying to
get out of giving an answer, but she insisted 'I want you to tell
me.'
    So I started to tell her about God. 'Do you see the finch, that
beautiful finch with all those golden colours and yellows and
blues? That bird is like God. Really look at that bird and see its
beauty and perfection. You are like the bird; you are beautiful,
because you are like God. If that bird falls and hurts itself it
won't feel all the pain of that fall, because God will feel 99 per
cent of it. God feels everything that happens to each and every
bird and it is the same with us – when something happens that
would hurt us, we only feel a fraction of it. God feels the rest
and takes it away.'
    I know these weren't my words – I was too young for words
of wisdom like this – they were words I was given by God or
the angels to help to explain to Marian about God.
    I loved that church; sometimes I'd be a bit late for school
because I would slip into the church before I would go into
class – it was something that I loved to do. The church was
always empty. I love churches – they are full of angels. There
might only be a few people in the church, but there is always a
great hustle and bustle amongst the angels there. People don't
realise how many angels there are in a church; the angels are
there praising God and waiting for God's people to come and
join them, but frequently no one does. At Mass on a Sunday the
place is packed with angels: guardian angels with every person,
angels standing around the priest at the altar and lots more
angels which God sends