The Pocket Angel Coin

The Pocket Angel Coin by Karen Lea

Years ago, I started buying pocket angel coins to distribute to any person I thought needed one.  It could be a stranger, a friend, a cashier, a relative, or anyone I encountered who looked like they were having a trying day.  I always figured giving someone an angel to put in their pocket would help them see the bright side of their challenging situation. 

I cannot remember why I started this routine but I do know I fell in love with the idea of having an angel in your pocket.  I first saw pocket angels in a store in Cape Cod and after buying a few of them, I would always buy more any time we went there.  I also made it a point to always have at least one in my pocket or inside of my coin purse.

One day while working in an office job, that little voice inside of me that lets me know things I could not possibly know as a human being, told me to give my angel coin to Joyce.  She worked for the same company. 

I told the voice that I could not do it because I did not want to make Joyce sadder than she already was.

Believe it or not, that little voice spoke louder but not for anyone else to hear - only for me.  At the time, I felt it could have been God speaking to me or an angel perhaps so I sternly said to that voice I would not do it because I did not want to make Joyce sadder than she already was.  Doubting my intuitive voice, I tried to figure out why it would want me to give her the angel coin knowing it could make her sad. 

Joyce had just come back to work that week for the second time after losing her young godchild to cancer.  She was very close to him - best buddies in fact and she tried coming back the week after the funeral services but she had to go home and take another week out.  Emotionally she was not ready.

Again, the voice spoke to me and it got even louder almost like it was yelling.  Frustrated by the voice repeating the same command, I said to that voice I would do it but that it would be responsible if it made her sad, especially if she had to go home. 

I took the angel coin out of my pocket and held it tight for fear I would not go through with it.  I marched quickly out of my office and walked over to her office.  I remember feeling very uneasy and sweating a bit about my choice but I somehow was able to walk up to her desk as confident as possible. 

“Joyce,” I said - “I do not know why I am doing this but my inner voice inside of me told me to give this to you.  I hope you like it.”  

I held out my hand and she held out her hand.  I dropped it from my hand to her palm - angel side up.  I thought for sure she would start crying immediately and fall apart right in front of me but she did not. 

She smiled at me with weary eyes and a sign of disbelief. 

“How did you know?” she asked. 

I responded with a question mark - the one that was written all over my wide-eyed face. 

“I did not know,” I said.  And I explained the voice that speaks to me, sometimes warns me of things and is also known to tell me to do things - things I would not ordinarily think of doing on my own. 

When Joyce’s godchild was alive, she used to blow kisses to him especially when he was getting ready to go home.  He would pretend to catch the kiss and put it in his pocket.  He would also blow kisses to her and tell her to do the same.  They did this so they could save those kisses for later.  Their playful actions of love for each other became a ritual they both treasured.  She told me they did this all the time. 

Everyone at work knew about her godchild and considered him to be an angel because he was so young when he died.  The way I began to look at it was I just happened to hear his plea or possibly his angel’s plea.  After this happened, I always considered he was the one telling me to do this but that was not the only thing that happened. 

At the time I was writing four days a week after work at night.  I did this because I wanted to add pages to the book I was writing and make it better than it was. 

The story was about two children, best buddies in fact who spend a lot of time together.  And those children never wanted to go home after playing because they always wanted to spend more time together - they missed each other when they were apart. 

One night when they were saying goodbye to one another, I wrote, the girl blew a kiss to the boy.  He decided to catch it and put it in his pocket for later.  He of course did the same and this became a fun routine that they both treasured when saying goodbye to one another. 

Strange but true, I wrote this chapter in my book the night before I heard the voice that told me adamantly to give the angel coin to Joyce.