Grandpa’s angel


“Do you believe in angels?” My grandpa once asked me. I told him that my 

mother was as close as one could be. 

I was only ten years old then and didn’t have a clue. But I hoped there were some 

angels, maybe one that Grandpa knew. 

My grandpa’s eyes shone bright as stars. His thoughts were days of old. I was 

’bout to hear a story, one that he had never told. 

Grandpa said he’d seen an angel many years ago and made a promise to himself, 

he’d be that angel’s beau. 

I wasn’t sure just what he meant. “You knew she’d be your wife? I’m never 

getting married. Don’t need women in my life.

“And girls don’t look like angels. They don’t have wings to fly. The thought of 

having girlfriends? Yuck! I guess I’d rather die.” 

Grandpa said, “It’s only natural for a boy to feel this way. Do you think that girls 

are sissies and just have paper dolls for play?”

Then he said, “Don’t worry, boy. Your angel will appear. By then you’ll see it my 

way, and you won’t have boyish fear.”  

I listened so intently as my grandpa spoke to me, ‘cuz I felt a little leery ’bout this 

angel I would see. 

Grandpa’s voice got quiet. “She’ll take you by surprise. You prob’ly won’t know 

what to say and won’t believe your eyes.

“The first time that she smiles at you, you’ll know just what I mean. For sure she’ll 

be your angel. The one you’ve not foreseen.” 

Then grandpa said, “My angel is the best part of my life. She’s been with me for 

sixty years and never caused me strife.”

With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “Throughout these many years, I could snuggle 

up to Grandma, and she never boxed my ears.”

Grandpa’s story ended and he wandered off a bit. He clasped my grandma’s hand 

and found a place for them to sit. 

I loved it when I saw my grandpa hold my grandma’s hand. It taught me ’bout two 

peoples’ love. It helped me understand. 

And when I saw my angel, I knew I’d be her beau. But Grandpa got it wrong ‘cuz 

when she smiled, I said, “Hello!”


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Bryce Angell’s father was an outfitter and guide for 35 years, and Bryce was there to shoe and care for the horses and help him do the cooking. Bryce is from Idaho and still rides into the Tetons, Yellowstone and surrounding areas. His poems are mostly of personal experience.



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