When I was a kid, I had two friends, and they were imaginary and they would only play with each other.

Others work among the spirits that have just arrived in the world of spirits. Again others raise the children who have died in infancy. Swedenborg ensures the parents of these infants that 'All children whether born within or outside of the church, are adopted by the Lord and become Angels'.

I'm beginning to believe that there are angels disguised as men who pass themselves off as such and who inhabit the earth for a while to console and lift up with them toward heaven the poor, exhausted and saddened souls who were ready to perish here below.

<i>Angels are all around us, all the time, in the very air we breathe.
-Eileen Elias Freeman,</i>
The Angels’ Little Instruction Book

<i>God not only sends special angels into our lives, but sometimes He even sends them back again if we forget to take notes the first time!
-Eileen Elias Freeman,</i>
The Angels’ Little Instruction Book

I was the kid next door's imaginary friend.

[There are] games children must conjure up to combat an awful fact of childhood: the fact of their vulnerability to fear, anger, hate and frustration - all the emotions that are an ordinary part of their lives and that they can perceive only as as ungovernable and dangerous forces. To master these forces, children turn to fantasy: that imagined world where disturbing emotional situations are solved to their satisfaction.

The Child Angel

Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child,

unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.

They are cruel in their greed and their envy,

their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood.

Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child,

and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the

forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day.

Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the

meaning of all things, let them love you and love each other.

Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my child.

At sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming flower,

and at sunset bend your head and in silence

complete the worship of the day.

We shelter an angel within us. We must be the guardians of that angel.

And it is through fantasy that children achieve catharsis. It is the best means they have for taming wild things.

In this busy modernized age, it's easy to be blind to the light all around us. You see, there truly are real angels living among us that look just like you and I. If you pay attention, you can spot one because they're quite easy to find. They're the souls with the eternally deep eyes that always act like something is broken inside, but fail to realize it's just their wings.

You are half fairytale, half girl.

As children, we all live in a world of imagination, of fantasy, and for some of us that world of make-believe continues into adulthood.

Has there ever been a child like Eva? Yes, there have been ; but their names are always on gravestones, and their sweet smiles, their heavenly eyes, their singular words and ways, are among the buried treasures of yearning hearts. In how many families do you hear the legend that all the goodness and graces of the living are nothing to the peculiar charms of one who is not I It is as if Heaven had an especial band of angels, whose office it was to sojourn for a season here, and en dear to them the wayward human heart, that they might bear it upward with them in their homeward flight. When you see that deep, spiritual light in the eye — when the little soul reveals itself in words sweeter and wiser than the ordinary words of children — hope not to retain that child ; for the seal of Heaven is on it, and the light of immortality looks out from its eyes.