JASMIN

"Angel? You guess there's an angel in this little box? Well, you'll have to open it to find out," he said. The Man revealed a small box wrapped in delicate gold Christmas foil.

"I hope it's an angel," said five year-old Jasmin in French. Upon examining her reflection in the gold wrapping paper, she inquired, "Can I open it now?"

"Yes, my dear. It is an early Christmas present, which should be opened now," he explained while gingerly tapping the top of her head.

The girl slowly unraveled the ribbon and set it on her hospital bed. Turning the box over, she carefully tore the paper, revealing the contents. The Man smiled.

"She's a beautiful angel!" Jasmin exclaimed, admiring her gift. Although only five inches tall, the angel showcased her creator's skill. The angel's long hair draped down her back and fell between her extended wings. The edges of her robe, sash, and hands held in prayer were lined with gold. At the sight of the angel's beautiful face and blue eyes, Jasmin smiled and pressed the figurine against her little body.

"I'm so happy you like her. She's pretty, just like you," the Man said, as he gently pinched and wiggled the end of Jasmin's nose. Jasmin shivered from the tickle and climbed down from her hospital bed, clutching the angel.

The Man's happiness was multiplied in the girl's enjoyment. Earlier that morning, he had wandered through the many gift shops in Lucerne, searching for the gift. He had almost surrendered until something called him to the window of Träume's, the store where he happened upon the porcelain figurine. With his hands pressed against the glass, like a small boy staring through a candy store window, he was transfixed by the angel's radiance and remembered the little girl's love for and belief in angels. At first, the owner of the store refused to part with the artifact. But, to the man's delight, she eventually acquiesced.

"I love her very much," Jasmin said as she kissed the figurine and hugged it.

"I'm sure she loves you too," said the Man.

"She has long hair, just like me. Do you think Mama loves her?" the child asked.

The Man's heart melted. "Oh, I'm sure your mama loves her."

"Papa says Mama lives with angels. Do you think so, Monsieur?"

"I do believe your mama is in Heaven."

"Do you believe in angels, because I do?" she asked.

"You believe in angels so much that you make me believe in them!" he chuckled.

The child smiled at his response. She stared at the angel's face and said sadly, "I miss Mama."

The Man was speechless. He patted the back of the girl's head and held back a tear. "I am so happy you like your little angel."

"Thank you, Monsieur. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Jasmin. Now, you can do something for me."

"Oui, Monsieur. What?" she asked.

He dropped to one knee and placed his hands on each of her slender shoulders. The Man's face softened as he solemnly stated, "Just like me, this angel prays every day for you to mend. Once you're healed you can leave this hospital."

"One day we'll go to the park."

"I would like that very much, Jasmin. One day we'll walk through the park." Standing, the Man placed his hands on the girl's head and prayed: "Heal her, O Lord, and she shall be healed; save her, and she shall be saved, for you are her praise." Jasmin lunged forward and, almost knocking the Man over, hugged him. He held her close, but gently, so as not to hurt her. He knew her recovery was unlikely, and when he kissed her forehead, his heart was filled with sorrow.

Jasmin's hospitalization came as a complete shock to her father. Only two days prior, the father and daughter were getting ready to dine at a new French restaurant in the center of Lucerne. Jasmin was dressed in an embroidered taffeta dress with a cream satin sash tied at her waist. Her nanny had fixed her hair in soft wavy curls that fell along her back. As Jasmin held her favorite coat lined with thick white, faux fur, she called to her father, "Papa, I am ready for dinner."

"You are the loveliest girl," he said as he entered the room. "You look like an angel!"

Jasmin enjoyed dressing up and accompanying her father to nice restaurants. In fact, she and her nanny had practiced many times what her nanny called "the rules of etiquette for young ladies." Nanny would set up the toy tea set in Jasmin's room, where they role-played fine dining and dressed-up. Their fun efforts reaped great rewards; onlookers in a variety of social settings were delighted to witness the delicate refinement of the attorney's daughter.

"What a beautiful child!" one exclaimed.

"I have never seen such a well-behaved little girl," another commented.

Others chimed in: "She's a doll!" and, "She is more proper than my grown niece!"

While Jasmin's father enjoyed all of the compliments, he liked "Her mother would be proud!" most of all. Jasmin's mother had died when Jasmin was four. "Jasmin, live happily," were the last words her mother spoke to her. After the death of her mother, Jasmin's only consolation was her visits to the park, where her mother had often taken her. It was in this very park that a beautiful lady had whispered in Jasmin's ear that her mother was in Heaven.

Jasmin pointed at her doll, "Papa, can Amélie come to dinner with us?"

"Well, that depends. Is she hungry?" he asked as he smiled, picked up his daughter, and kissed her soft cheek. "Of course Amélie can come, princess."

Once her father set her down, Jasmin reached for and hugged Amélie. The next moment, the girl suddenly collapsed. "Jasmin!" her nanny cried, as Jasmin's little body lay crumpled on the cold tile floor and her doll rolled out of her arms.

As the afternoon sun gave way to the moon's gentle glow, Jasmin kissed her angel and placed her on the table among the medical monitors that mechanically tracked her condition. Although seemingly overpowered by the bright lights and large machines surrounding her, the small angel stood like a heavenly sentinel, watching vigilantly over her little mistress. When the nurse came to tuck Jasmin in for the night, a ray of light from the hallway cascaded upon the angel. Jasmin smiled warmly at the sight. Her father, who sat at Jasmin's bedside, held her hands while they recited their evening prayers. Then, he himself retired to his own small bed at the opposite corner of the room. While the rhythmic beeping of the machines lulled Jasmin and her father into a peaceful sleep, a sudden pain like a sharp knife piercing her heart penetrated Jasmin's chest. At that moment, her head immediately jerked back, her eyes stared straight up at the dark ceiling, and her arms went rigid at her sides. Overcome, she gasped for air. One of the monitors behind the porcelain angel came to life blinking its lights and shouting a loud and piercing sound. Despite Jasmin's efforts to fight against the pain, the pain gripped her even tighter. Terrified, Jasmin gasped to catch her breath, prayed desperately for relief, and clenched her hands with greater force. "Oh, Mama, it hurts! Make...