Angel of Forgiveness Story
Miracle on 26th & 6th
So I’m not supposed to visit my dad because he has nothing to give, or he might give me something with money he doesn’t have, I’m not supposed to call collect like he asks me too. And what if… my father has something precious to give, ha, God is my Father too, you know. And he is a good God, they say.
I was living in Austin, I hadn’t seen my dad for many years, and I wasn’t planning on seeing him.
I had to be financially secure, bring something to give besides my words and dreams. I was moving to a the city near him, hoping to sell a song, or my greeting cards, mostly derived from found Angel prints he sent in 1986, that’s all I asked for, and all he offered, the price of a stamp.
It is (1992) 6 years after I sketched my first Angel card (The First Kiss) which I found in a closet 1986.
I wasn't making ends meet in Austin as a Singer/ Songwriter & Greeting Card Entrepreneur.
This one night before leaving Austin, on the check out line at Central Market, I saw a post card of an angel playing a Lute, and it moved me deeply, I heard music, I bought it, went back to a friends home who I met at the YMCA, where I was staying for my last night in Texas, and there to my surprise was an easel, blank canvas and paints! So, I made a brighter painting of it! The next day, I left my new painting on canvas with the aqua electric blue guitar, and carried the Angel with the lute postcard with me in a dollar glass frame, in my red Samsonite, on the plane, trains ect., when I got to my destination, I hung the post card near the bed, on the stairway walls, and in my hands, it was Beauty, it gave me hope. Things didn’t go as I planned and I ended up without a place to live. I was very sick with a fever. My friend, who did not have parents said, but “You have a Father, you have a Father! You can not stay here.”
My father lived in NY but I hadn’t seen him for many years and I was afraid to call him, I did not want to put any more burdens on him or be a reflection of his losses, his whole family and home which he built. I never asked for anything ever, except this one time, when my sister was being hurt and I could not reach her, it was then I found an old angel print that my father gave my sister, hidden in a dark closet, (see image above) I wanted to find my father to remind him of this beautiful image and his innocent heart. I was sad at losing my sister to the horrors of the Powers that Be. I called and asked if he could be in my life and send me some more angels that I would sketch, after saying "No, I have nothing" repeatedly he finally agreed to send old angels from the antique world he was now living in~
Fast forward 6 years later, on this one horrible, rainy night, after moving away, I ended up having to call him because I had nowhere else to turn. He was willing to see me. He told me to meet him tomorrow, Sunday, on 26 and 6th Ave. in the City he said "I'll buy you a cup of coffee". “I have something for you, You’re gonna love it!”
What could it be to carry with me to nowhere, on my back. Tears rolled slowly down my hot face as I sat on a cold, kitchen floor. The following day, Sunday, I made it to him, through the busy, bustling city, to my father’s corner of the flea market, I made it to my D.O.D, Dear old dad. He handed me this huge green hefty garbage bag,
unraveling it, standing there, tired and forlorn, and with care, I took out this large rectangular object, balancing it within both arms, it was wrapped in layers of newspaper, then cushioned in paper towels, I carefully unraveled, and unraveled and there within my arms was, the angel, and there within my arms was my angel, the angel with the Lute but it was antique gold and bigger too ~ my Angel of Forgiveness, my Angel of truth.
It was the same angel, the same angel I had in my suitcase, the one I painted only weeks before, so far away in Austin. I hadn’t seen or talked to my father for 6 years, how would he know that I had been moved by that very same angel. And the same angel that was giving me comfort was giving my father comfort. He had saved it for some reason. He didn’t sell it like he sold seat #1 and 2 of the Yankee stadium seats but saved it hoping he would see me someday, and gave it to me. Since that time I have gotten to know my father. So there I am at 26th and 6th, with my red samsonite suitcase with this angel picture inside that I had been carrying around with me in a glass frame, all over this strange, big city, for the past week, and taking it out on subways and putting it on the empty walls, saying ok this brings me peace and hope, I am ok, and there in this school parking lot, my dad handed me this huge bag. I was so tired. I didn’t want anything, I didn’t have the strength to say Dad I don’t want anything, I just really (laugh) wanted a miracle…or to sell a song or find a way to sing for people, and o.k. I wanted a place to call home, and when he handed me the bag and I unraveled it, it was unexpected, it was better than anything. It wasn’t my plan or idea. It was heavens. If I had sold a song, I could have made some money to buy a house, but then I wouldn’t be able to share this story.
I learned from books and friends, it was about Forgiveness and the Intercession of grace for those who don’t realize they are loved despite what life brings them. Even if they've killed people in wars, or screamed at someone, even if....they are loved. " When something true happens one can not go back to not believing"
Months after I started selling the first Angel Sketch above to stores, I saw people smiled when they saw it so I started packaging them. Even while I worked at the front desk of the local Ymca.
One night, while I was working as a receptionist while was folding the first Angel Cards for selling, after I prayed at the desk under the lamp, for a friend to understand my sorrow. My sister was being hurt and I could not stop it. At this moment a young lady walked in the big front doors, and to the desk, looking over at my cards, she said,
"Where did you get those cards?"
“I make them”.......silence. Well, originally my father gave a print of this “The First Kiss” to my older sister, I found it in her closet and loved it so much, she gave it to me. I felt innocence for the first time in this world. Then that night, 1986 I stayed up all through the night sketching it. I started printing them after a lady - smiled when I gave it to her, not believing I drew it. Actually a member here now prints them for me from a press. Do you know him? He dosen’t wear shoes when he jogs, well…he does but half of the souls are gone, they flip flop, AND he uses a worn out paper bag to keep his clothes in. I laughed, then we are serious and somber. I say, “Are you o.k.?
So you actually drew that image?
Stopping and focusing on her.
Yes, I did. You seem surprised.
Yes, I am (she hesitated) a few months ago my dear sister died. We were in a car accident, I was driving. Last week I bought one of your cards at the store. It reminded me of her in heaven. It comforted me. I had it framed and gave it to my other sister for comfort.
[Long silence, surprised and is thinking of a way to bring hope and empathy]
her thumb is holding up her chin, forefinger on cheek). She says, “I’m so sorry.
I have a sister (she hesitates) I can’t reach right now either.”
Angel of Forgiveness Song
Kathi Nordone "Angel of Forgiveness" @1992
Played on WFUV
I saw an Angel on a post card playing a lute
I loved that angels’ truth
I heard that angels song
so I took my angel home
Angel carry me home see me through I want to be closer to you
So I painted that angel electric blue but I left it when I moved
and with me through the rain I carried that post card in a dollar glass frame
I hung it on an empty wall besides a yellow dress
some one needed to be blessed ~
So I packed it up and left.
I had been beaten down I had no home,
felt defeated no where to go
Angel carry me home~ see me through I want to be closer to you
So I called up my father a stranger (soldier) in my past
he had no idea I’d be there
I met him on 6th Ave and I asked him for a bed
My life was in danger my eyes said
and his were disguised by walls of tough pride as he handed me a bag
And there within my arms was my angel
my angel with the Lute but it was Antique Gold and bigger too
my angel of forgiveness
my angel of truth