Resumo de "the Angel Child" - Autumn J. Rountree

Once upon a time, during the late 1800?s, a very talented artist by the name of William Adolphe Bouguereau lived into believing that he could make the world beautiful. He would paint any picture from under the sun. His most treasured interests in art include young woman, angels, children, nature and outdoors, religion, and fantasy. In the year 1875, he captured the innocence of a young girl alone wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Then he added some flair to the child by giving her wings. But, then again, I?m only guessing. Maybe he did envision some sort of spirit in a dream and drew her out of memory.

The girl he drew stands out because she is portraying Cupid now. She is unique to become a significant sign of holiness and tranquility. By setting aside her bow and arrows, she seems to appear elusive. The name of this particular painting is "Cupidon", the French word for Cupid. So, about one hundred and thirty-six years later, a replica of the painting can be found in many art exhibits and galleries around the world. Although it may not be the most exuberant painting on the earth, this angel became a dream come true for a very special little girl....

Atlanta Marie Raymond was a pretty young girl who lived with her aunt, Rosemary. Atlanta was only eight and suffered from the disease Nocardiosis. Her parents left their daughter after they realized Atlanta was very ill. ''There?s nothing we can do," her mom and dad had said. ''Please take care of her for us." Her aunt solemnly agreed.

One day, Aunt Rosemary, quite exhausted, said, "Atlanta, let?s go to the art museum they just opened up in town. Okay?''

''Okay,'' Atlanta said joyfully. She was grateful to get out of the house. With Aunt Rosemary working two jobs, Atlanta was always left behind. ''Can I get a painting?"

''We are just sightseeing. That is it." She then poured herself some coffee. '"Paintings cost lots of money. Even replicas."

"What are replicas?" asked Atlanta curiously.

"They are copies of an original. Now, go get ready.''

The museum was huge with lots of people. In one section, recent paintings including the newest artists, stood side by side. There was even artwork from Asia, Africa, Europe, and several other kinds of countries.

"See, here?s some rock art from Africa, and some old Greek jewelry from 200 B.C. Oh, look! There is also some pretty French Polynesian pearl earrings here from Tahiti."

"Umm, can we look at the paintings now?" Atlanta spoke up.

"Okay. We?ll go. But the paintings here are for memorial purposes-ONLY." Aunt Rosemary strained.

Every painting was exceptional. There were designs from Vincent Van Gogh to Pablo Picasso. And there were beautiful pictures from Leonardo da Vinci and Claude Monet. But nothing compared to the lovely angel portrait that seemed to stare at her. The angel?s wings were huge and fluffy-looking. Atlanta had wanted to touch the painting badly, for she knew this one was special. The angel had long, light brown hair that tied about her ears and the sweetest dark shimmering eyes. She felt like she could communicate through this painting, to tell the angel her hopes and dreams.

"Don?t you want to look at the other types of landscapes, Atlanta? There?s so much more."

"I like this one. The angel loves me."

Back home, Atlanta dreamed of her angel. She prayed that night for Cupidon to come and save her from her horrible condition. Little did she know that Cupidon was real.

The angel appeared at 12 am. She was fully clothed, not naked like in the painting at the museum. She woke Atlanta by calling out her name.

Atlanta heard and instantly sat up. "Aunt Rosemary?"

"No," the angel said, floating in front so that the girl could see her better.

"Who, who are you?" Atlanta asked the figure, very frightened.

"I am the angel from the painting you saw. Don?t be frightened."

The portrait angel was so beautiful; much different than from what she remembered. She reached out to tton white dress that swirled and smiled. It felt like it was made out of silk and ribbons.

She continued, "The Lord sent me down to help you. You are special, Atlanta. Come and pray with me. Your illness will get better. I promise." The angel floated down beside the little sick girl and held her hand. Then, she started to pray in a heavy whisper.

"Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth..."

Suddenly the door to Atlanta?s room opened, and Aunt Rosemary peeked
in. The angel vanished just as soon as it came. Rubbing her eyes to see better, she looked to find Atlanta kneeling on the floor.

"Atlanta, what were those voices that I heard?" she asked her niece, wide awake now.

"That was my guardian angel," she happily replied, and closed her eyes.
-THE END
Copyright by Autumn J. Rountree, July 2006

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