I didn't see her my first two days of therapy. I looked around and figured she was doing her best to avoid seeing me. On my third trip to therapy I spotted her in the hall on my way to my truck after I left my therapy.She had a big smile on her face. She was talking to a fairly young good looking doctor. I went to call out to her but the doctor she was with gave her a big hug and she did hug him back. My heart dropped to my stomach.I quickly turned and headed for the exit. She had seen me and yelled to me. "Bill! Wait! I need to talk to you."I acted like I didn't hear and hurried to the door on crutches. I was lucky enough to park in the front row. My therapist got me a handicapped sticker till my casts would be removed. It still took me a few minutes to get in the truck and Tammy caught up with me."Why didn't you stop?" she asked me. "I know you heard me." She got in the passenger side of the truck. We were both sitting there."I didn't want to interrupt you and your boyfriend. Now I. Sara nights were the true magic now in her life. Once home, she'd slip off her shoes and gravitate between her art desk and the computer desk. Both were places were her spirit roamed free and the Art Angel spread her wings.She'd sit at her art desk, hair up in a ponytail, bare toes wiggling and create some of the same beautiful pictures she had escaped into twenty years ago. She would spend hours creating heartwarming scenes of little girls playing, of fairy tale princesses, and of lovely young women living the life she was still trying to create. Only now, she was 25 and not 5. Fine art tools had replaced crayons and coloring books, and what was once a toddler's scribbling was now the creative genius of a true master. Of course Sara never shared this work with anyone, as not only was it too personal, but still lacking faith in her abilities, she never dreamed she could give away an Art Angel original creation, let alone sell it.When she wasn't lost in her art, she was flying.
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