Day 1 of the 2011 Advent Calendar. Click through to see what today’s door reveals. Additionally, I decided to add another element to the daily posts. Let me know if you figure it out.

Though I’m not religious, I have this fascination with Angels, I suppose much in the same way that I am enamored of the creatures from various mythologies. Angels are associated with Christmas, of course, because of the angel that appeared to Mary to foretell the birth of Christ. That angel was Gabriel, who also appeared to herald the birth of John the Baptist. It was Gabriel who is believed to have delivered the Qur’an to Muhammed. There are actually only two angels mentioned by name in the traditional Bible (New and Old Testaments) – Gabriel and Michael, though apocryphal texts name many more (like Raphael and Azrael).

One of my favorite angel names is Metatron, who sounds like he must be a transformer. I also love the depictions of angels that describe them as fiery wheels or with many eyes.

I aimed to include inspirational quotes in my advent calendar – not the kind that just sound pretty, but quotes about creativity, things that I would like to read to focus my attempts. I realize with angels this runs the risk of being extremely cheesy, but I found one that I think works:

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”  – Michelangelo

 

Michelangelo also famously said:

“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.”

Finally, I’ll end with a short fiction piece that I wrote ages ago which fits in this post, though it’s not quite in the holiday spirit. But I wanted to kick this off with something original. So here it is:

A is for Angel

I keep the angel chained up in the basement.

She’s not at all like you would expect. Not like the angels who razed Sodom and Gomorrah, or even archangel Gabriel who appeared to Mary and Mohammed. She’s a frail little thing, like a young girl. I doubt she could kill a mouse.

I found her, one night, coming back from a dog fight. She was lying on the side of the road, next to a pile of garbage bags, on the rainy ground. Her wings were crumpled, soaking in a puddle of water topped with a shimmering film of oil. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

I took her back to the house, and down to the basement. Then I chained her up. I couldn’t let her get away. Not my perfect, pretty angel.

She doesn’t have girl parts, I noticed that right away. But perhaps that’s for the best.

She doesn’t speak. Ever. She only cries, crystalline tears studding her pale cheeks. I’ve tasted them and they’re very sweet.

I went down last night after dinner, to feed her the nightly table scraps. Her skin was luminous, her wings iridescent. I felt that familiar tightness in my chest when I looked at her. She wasn’t crying for a change. I think that she might be starting to like me.

She cries because she feels like God has abandoned her. I tell her that there is no God and that’s why he hasn’t saved her. I don’t believe this, of course. She is proof that there is a God. But I tell her that anyway. If she stops loving Him, maybe she can start loving me.

Sometimes I think that I am an angel who has lost his wings. I think that’s why we understand each other so well.

Tonight, she touched me. I was going to check her chains, to make sure they were secure, and she raised one delicate porcelain hand to my face. I froze like a statue. I could not move. I stared into her dew-drop eyes, inhaled her. She is coming to love me, I can see that. “There is no God,” I said.

It’s just about time to feed her her scraps for the night. I heard the chains jangling earlier, so I’d better check on them, too.

I open the door to the basement and there is something luminous at the top of the stairs. My angel is there. In her scream is Sodom and Gomorrah.

I call out to God to save me, but there is no answer.