Angel of Love
It was a typical autumn evening in London. I was simply walking down a narrow street, admiring the display windows of old shops, when a tiny jewelry boutique caught my attention, one I hadn’t noticed before. Its small windows were adorned with sparkling jewels, and a soft, warm light emanated from them, drawing me in.
I stopped by the window to examine the necklaces, bracelets, and rings. My eyes wandered over the pieces, but I wasn’t planning to buy anything—just enjoying the moment. Suddenly, I felt someone standing next to me. Turning my head, I saw an elderly man with kind yet penetrating eyes. He smiled and politely asked:
— Are you looking for something, young lady?
— No, — I replied, a bit embarrassed by his attention. — Just browsing.
— I know what you need, — he said quietly, as if he had read my mind, and handed me a necklace with a pendant.
The pendant was unusual. Shaped like angel wings, with a sparkling eye in the center, topped with a crown in place of the angel’s head. It seemed almost magical, as if it belonged to another world.
— This is the "Angel of Love," — the man said. — It symbolizes love and devotion. You look sad. Perhaps you miss your friend?
These words struck me like lightning, and I froze in place. How could this man know that I indeed missed my friend Irene? We hadn’t seen each other in months, and I had been longing for our conversations and shared moments. I stared at the elderly man, utterly surprised, but his gaze remained calm and assured.
— Give this pendant to your friend, — he continued. — Let her know how much she means to you.
I thanked him, though inside, I was swirling with a mix of surprise and unease. I bought the pendant and disappeared into the twilight of the London streets, my mind still turning over the strange encounter.
That evening, back in my hotel room, I spent a long time looking at the "Angel of Love." Its wings seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of my room. I couldn’t shake the thought of how this elderly man, someone who didn’t know me, could understand what was going on in my heart. How did he know about my feelings for Irene? It felt almost mystical.
The next morning, I decided to return to the boutique. I wanted to see this man again and ask him how he knew. But when I arrived, he wasn’t there. Instead, a young woman stood behind the counter, smiling kindly as she asked what I was looking for.
— Yesterday evening, I bought this pendant from an elderly man here, — I said, pulling out the necklace from my bag.
The woman frowned. — We don’t have any elderly men working here. I’m here from opening until closing, and there’s no one else. We close every day at exactly 6 PM.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I distinctly remembered buying the pendant around 7:30 PM. Everything about this situation felt strange.
...I stayed in London for another week, returning to that little boutique every evening, as if hoping for a miracle. But the elderly man never appeared again. Everything around remained the same: the glow of streetlights, the soft rustle of passersby, and the wind swaying the leaves. The boutique closed precisely at 6 PM, and each time, the young woman politely wished me goodnight as she left.
A week passed, and I still couldn’t unravel the mystery. Yet, with each passing day, holding the pendant in my hand, I felt a growing sense of peace, as if the "Angel of Love" had indeed given me something more than just a piece of jewelry. A quiet joy bloomed in my heart, reminding me of my dear friend Irene. We hadn’t seen each other in so long, and now I was certain that it was time to gift her this pendant as a symbol of our friendship.
That evening, before my departure, I sat in my hotel room, flipping through a book, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I took off the pendant and gently placed it in my palm. Its wings, seemingly woven from light, reflected the flickering glow of the streetlights outside. At that moment, it felt as though something shimmered inside the pendant, like a living light.
I closed my eyes and whispered softly, "Thank you."
Who was that elderly man? Perhaps he was just a mysterious vendor. Or maybe he was something more—a messenger who appeared to help me remember what truly mattered. No one will ever know for sure. But I realized one thing: sometimes in life, strange, magical moments happen that can’t be explained by logic, but they give us something priceless.
In that moment, I knew—it didn’t matter who that man was. What mattered was that he left a feeling of love and devotion in my heart, like an angel who had briefly stepped into my life to remind me that the true treasures are not things but the feelings we cherish deep within.
With these thoughts, I closed my eyes, and the gentle image of that stranger, softly smiling, seemed to say goodbye, leaving a spark of mysterious love in my heart, one that continued to glow quietly within.
Victoria Lunar
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