The Guardian Angel

[Alboroto]

A little off the track -once when his ward lost himself in the midst of a crowd, he was following another person with a similar outfit for several hours-; nervous -seeing the blood that rose from a small wound caused while shaving, he beat his wings so hard near the razor, that he caused a serious cut and a veritable hemorrhage; but as kind as any other guardian angel, he watches impotently how the man falls into the abyss of death, unable to do absolutely anything to prevent it.

"Lord," he murmurs, with that perfect humility that only the angels posses, "Would you not want to prevent it? No...?

And postrated, with his wings folded and te marvelous countenance facing the earth, he waits for an answer from the divinity, in silence.
But all that he hears is the agitated breathing that emerges from the body beside which he keeps watch; an unconscious and tremulous mass, shaken by anguising spasms; poor flesh already unpardonably comdemned to destruction.

Then he cries, long, unceasingly, resignedly, because even to the guardian angels, the life and death of the persons entrusted to their keeping costitute an impenetrable mystery


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