Lady in white

Her scarf blew in the air like a giant wing

- MARIE ASNER

PASSENGERS FILLED the aisles as I made my way to the back of the plane. I tossed my bag into the overhead compartment and sat down, nodding politely to the woman next to me. Soon the captain announced our takeoff. “Here we go,” I said quietly. The woman glanced at me. She thought I was talking to her. The truth is, I was talking to the angel who travels with me. I sometimes forget that no one can actually see her. Some people find that odd—a woman my age talking to a guardian angel. Wasn’t I a little old for that? I understand. I’d once thought I might be too old for that too.

Back in 1950, I was 10 years old— practically grown up, I thought—and spending Easter on Uncle Walt and Aunt Mary’s farm in Minnesota, on the banks of the Mississippi River. After lunch my mom said, “You can stay with the girls next door.”

“Great!” I said, pulling on my coat and hat. Nine-year-old Elaine and her sister, Maryann, who was eight, were like cousins to me. We’d had a lot of adventures together on the farm. “You’re the oldest,” my mother reminded me. “Look out for the others.”

“I will,” I said.

Elaine, Maryann and I played tag for a while, then I suggested we go down by the river. “Last year it was frozen solid till mid-April at least,” I said. The girls nodded.