Few feelings were expressed in my first diary. My inner child was vast and my biggest secret hidden from the world.
That most precious secret was the blessed presence of an angel, which I felt no words could express. I wrote of my angel in a January 27, 1963, diary memorandum,
"I named my angel 'Lucky' today, Lucky, the best angel that ever was."
Included in parentheses as an afterthought, should my little sister, Corinne, read it:
(the reader of this may think this is all silly, but to me it's very important).
I continued on how a kind friend, Barbie, had taken me along with her to Bible class. I was deeply touched by her genuine devotion and found myself going back to Catechism classes at the Catholic Church, writing, "I want to rekindle my religion, which I never want to neglect again."
The note about Barbie and my angel was interupted to write of how my little sister was fighting with my little brother.
"I must go break it up. Well, back again. Corinne is very mean and unconsiderate of everyone in the family. I think it's horrible, horrible. I'm glad I'm not like her.
Now to get back to Lucky. Lucky for I'm lucky to have an angel and I guess it's the only name that seems right. I can't explain it in words. I love God and I never want to leave Him again."
The angel lovingly visited me when I was eleven and a half, coming at night, unseen, as I lay in bed quietly drifting off, in between bright wakefulness and sleep, to give simple challenges that left me in consciously conscious bliss. Like, "Relax and bring your legs off the bed a few inches so they do not touch the mattress. Do it as long as you can, and then stay up a little longer" --that was the key! My angel inspired me to get up before the sun and dwell on the sweetness of predawn energy, to walk outside and deeply breathe the subtle air. Yet I never spoke of these sacred times. Having an angel did not fit into my family paradigm.
One morning after an angelic visit I was riding on the school bus, gazing contemplatively out the window, when I quickly turned to look at my friend Sheila, who halfway jumped off her seat! She exclaimed, "Your eyes! You look like a witch!"
If my friends and family could not understand, how could anyone?
I took a Hukam from the Siri Guru Granth Sahib asking the Guru to address childhood confusion on my angel not fitting in. Here is Guru’s response:
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