Shell gave him a call. "My name is Marv," she said.
"Hi Marv,
what's been going on?"
She told him about the ward they were tasked with taking care of, how their ward needed round the clock care, how she lived in the same apartment and was on duty
when the other caregivers weren't around.
It was a hard job, and
her own health was failing. But she couldn't let her employers know. She feared for her own job. If she lost it due to health reasons, she would have been even less able to take care of herself.
He listened. There wasn't much he could do but listen.
He wasn't God. He didn't command vast armies of angels.
He wasn't
even a single angel.
Well, actually he was.
He was Shell's guardian angel,
but he didn't know it. Yet.
His care about her well-being would direct where her life went. That's why she was so nervous calling him. But
he didn't recognize her.
Their subjective realities were vastly different.
He tried his best to give her someone to talk to because
she couldn't talk to anybody else about her work, the challenges she faced each day, just trying to get by, the constant pain she had to endure with a smile on her face.
Nobody else knew. Nobody else could know.
Nobody would believe her anyway.
So
she tried to make her guardian angel understand. She was his guardian angel too after all.