A very, very long time ago, in a place far, far away I bought a cabin.  It was built of huge logs harvested on the property.   The road a faint path grown over with years of neglect.  It stood alone quietly  facing  a small lake in Northern Saskatchewan.     The windows obscured with the dust of many years.  Velvety moss covered the stone doorstep.    Over the  door a sign ALWAYS WELCOME STRANGERS THEY MAY BE ANGELS.  I bought my cabin never stepping inside.

Later when I picked up the key I learned the history of my cabin.  It had been built in the early Twenties.  When  World War Two was declared in September l939 the son  of the owners enlisted.  He never came home.  His parents never returned to their cabin.   Twenty-Two years later I walked into a time capsule.    It was as if they had simple closed the door and gone for a stroll.   I kept the iron beds.  The “crazy ” patchwork quilts.    The  kettle for heating water.    The Union Jack to hang on the flag pole.  The tiny child’s wooden boat.   I kept the sign over the door.

Thus began my fascination with angels.    I was fascinated with the concept of entertaining angels unaware.    Their wings.  What do angels do with their wings?  Tuck them under their coats?  Hang them at the door?   The Christmas issues of my French magazines always featured angel wings in their decor.  Hanging over mirrors.  On the backs of chairs.    Now I was obsessed with finding  angel wings.  Not flimsy cartoon versions of wings, but big, white wings with feathers.

It was in July of the past summer when I walked into our Ladner Thrift Shop and discovered my angel wings.  They were hanging with children’s costumes.     Teary eyed I stroked the feathers.  They were perfect .  They were my long sought after angel wings.

They hang surrounded  by all things French .    The setting is perfect.  My angel wings catch the early morning sun and in the evening tiny fairy lights light up the night.   I remember the sign from long ago.   I live in hope remembering the cabin sign.   Welcome strangers for some have entertained angels unawares.




    • Dear Gayle, It was the last thing I expected to find, but really (as we both know) amazing items turn up at thrift shops. I was so happy I was literately dancing with delight. Cheers Virginia

  1. Oh, the Ladner Thrift Shop stories continue. Such a treat! What DO angels do with their wings? I love your question and quest, too. The wings are magnificent. I love the marabou detailing on tippy tops. Beautiful post! Theadora

    • Dearest Miss T. There are a thousand stories about our Thrift Shop. Wonderful finds and even more important the kindness of strangers. Your good words are always an encouragement for me. XXXOOO Virginia

  2. These are perfect angel wings and now I know what you do with angel wings – hang them above your mirror to catch the light. You drew me into your forest and cabin. Angels could be anywhere. So glad these wings found a home. Christmas holidays have begun!

    • Such excitement. I have been waiting for months to hang the angel wings. And the icing on the Christmas cake is the arrival of the tree. It’s standing knee deep in water in the garage. Lar will bring it in tomorrow and the fun begins. The fragrance of the tree is already wafting through the house. It some times takes me three or four days to hang all the ornaments and I love every moment of them. The oldest ornament is a miniature copper tea kettle my Mom gave me for my first Christmas tree 64 years ago. Happy Holidays to you dear Jo Nell. XXXOOO Virginia

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