When your sister arrives look in her bag,
In an outside pocket, in the bottom of the pocket,
You’ll find a Wee Angel I’ve sent in your distress.
She’s not very big so look closely and be careful of her wings.
These small wings were too little to fly all the way,
Which is why she hitched a ride in your sisters luggage.
When you find her, place her inside your chest just behind your left breast
Where your heart used to be.
She is there to repair your heart, but not right away.
Like a San Francisco earthquake, it all has to settle and stop quaking.
So sit as quietly as you can,
And let the quake take its course, dredging up the anger and guilt you carry there.
Release the castigations and accusations and the rage which has appeared in your life.
And like a quake there will be aftershocks, but you have made yourself strong enough to withstand them.
Hold on, sweetling, hold on to the love we put in there for just such an occasion as this.
And the shocks and the aftershocks will diminish and die
Leaving rubble, lots and lots of rubble.
I can’t help with the rubble except to stand by your side as you see your castle in ruins.
But that’s when the Wee Angel gets to work. She’s good at clearing the rubble and picking up the pieces.
And when she’s found all the pieces and feels it’s safe again,
She sews your heart back together.
It will be nearly as good as new.
And when you feel one of the sutures break sometimes, she will still be there to put the stitches back in.
If you want to help her, she’s so small that she could use some help, sit quietly so the quakes don’t disturb her work,
And feed her with love, tenderness and above all forgiveness.
We all love you so. That’s what she uses for sinew to stitch your dear heart back together.
Her name? You know her name.
– The Small Town Boy