Free Angels in My Hair by Lorna Byrne Page A

robes busy in the gardens. They took
no notice of me, it was as if they didn't see me. I sat down on
an old tree trunk and watched.
    It definitely was a holy place, a place where lots of prayers
had been said. All of the monks shone so brightly – they were
so clean, and not just in their bodies, but in their souls, too.
They prayed as they worked and I noticed the angels were
praying with them. I felt very much at peace there; I wanted to
stay, but eventually my angels dragged me out of there. They
kept telling me to go home, that my mother would be worried.
I did as they told me. Although it was getting dark, the angels
lit the way for me. Mum had already gone to work when I got
home, so I didn't get into trouble.
    During that year I must have gone to the monastery at least
twelve times or more. Only once, the last time I visited, did a
monk speak to me. He was picking gooseberries off a bush
and I walked right up and stood beside him. He glowed so
brightly, and his angel stood beside him was also dressed like
him. He looked up at me – he was very young – and said,
'Hello'.
    I asked him his name. He told me it was Paul. He spoke very
softly and asked me mine. I told him.
    He offered me some gooseberries, asking me why I came
there so often. I answered him, 'Just to watch you all pray. I
need your prayers.'
    'I will always pray for you, Lorna,' he replied.
    I said goodbye, knowing that I would never go back to the
monastery again.
    One of my favourite outings on a Saturday morning was going
shopping with my mother. This involved a trip to Moore
Street, a busy street market in the centre of Dublin which had
stalls down both sides of the street and women with broad
Dublin accents crying out their wares. I would pull the
shopping trolley along behind me while Mum chose which
fruit and vegetables were best to buy.
    One Saturday, as we turned into Moore Street, an angel
pulled at my shoulder and whispered in my ear, 'Let your Mum
walk ahead of you – she won't notice.' I took two steps
backwards and my Mum walked on, looking at the fruit and
vegetables on sale. As I stood and looked down Moore Street,
the view changed. Suddenly, Moore Street was like a golden
palace: everything was a golden colour, even the people. Then
the colours changed and other colours appeared – vibrant
brighter colours, much brighter and more vibrant than
normal. These colours started to flow from the fruit, vegetables
and flowers, like waves full of energy. Then these waves
became balls of colour which bounced around the street, from
one side of the street to the other, bouncing off the stalls and
even off people; but no one seemed to notice.
    The street was not just full of people, it was full of angels –
many more than usual. Some of the angels were dressed like the
woman selling fruit and vegetables and were busying themselves
in helping. I thought it was very funny to watch the angels
imitate every move that the women made – angels are such
wonderful mimics. They were singing too – it was as if they were
humming in time to the street life going on around them.
    I had been in Moore Street many times before, but I had
never seen anything like this; perhaps it was especially for me,
to make me laugh, or perhaps it happens every day there, but
this was the first time I was allowed to see it. I found all the
hustle and bustle so exciting.
    Suddenly, my mother, who was about three stalls ahead,
noticed I was not standing by her side.
    'Lorna, wake up. Come here with the shopping trolley.'
    I thought everything would change back to normal, but it
didn't. I stood beside my Mum and my angels whispered in my
ear, 'Watch the lady selling fruit.'
    I did as I was told and I saw her guardian angel standing
right behind her. Her guardian angel looked like her and
dressed like her; she was full of light and had a wonderful
smile and she winked at me. Mum asked the woman for some
apples, pears and bananas. As the woman put the fruit in the
brown paper bag