~**~

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help him up.

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."
Book of Ecclesiastes

*******

It was the summer of 1968 when the Angel of Ireland, Dr. Sedrick McGrath, received his wings. He had earned them, twice over, with Cal and Tomas O'Fallon.

An angel is blessed with second sight as needed, seeing to the end of a life.

Cal would be a rugby player, father of twin boys himself; and Tomas, a fine surgeon and leader in his field.

The fraternal twins of a widowed parson had brought the angel his wings in short order.

Kissing death daily, the twins roamed the green slopes, cliffs, open fields, and beautiful forests of their native Ireland. During the short summer, they left their father to his theology after morning chores, and didn't return until suppertime.

Never did they enter into the parsonage without scraped knees, tales of scrapes with death, and close encounters with the Serpent of Old.

This day recalls more of the same, but a dare would jeopardize Cal's life. Don't get me wrong, Cal loved a dare. He oftentimes made them. A troubled boy, with evil already in his heart, would test Cal and his brother, trying to sever their bond.

Thankfully, the Angel of Ireland was already dispatched by the Almighty himself, headed towards the O'Fallon boys in the deep woods.

The twins had wandered into the forest much too far, off the country road and into the shadows. Every tree was named a spectre, with bent branches that looked like arms and legs, and Scottish Pines that seemed to have eyes. They swore they'd seen a Leprechaun about, and ventured farther on.

Tomas complained of thirst, so they stopped for a drink by a lofty tree near a brook. Tired, they rested for a bit, and blew on blades of grass and skipped stones across the water.

Cal was competitive and athletic; but Tomas was more grown up by twenty minutes-- a fact that irritated the younger to no end.

"We have wandered too far, Cal. We best be heading home for supper. Father will fuss!"

Cal eased his brother's fears. "Aw, fussin' doesn't hurt. Father just makes sure the devil doesn't claim us. It's not good for a parson to have unruly boys."

Just then, the boys heard a rustling sound, and turned around. There stood the bully of the schoolyard.

"Rudy Kilmartin! We thought you were a Leprechaun. You scared us half to death!"

The rough looking boy came closer, eyeing Cal up and down. "How old are ya? Six?"

"You know how old I am.... We're in your class!"

"I heard you and your brother won't be graduating from primary school," he chided. "Such a shame...."

"Did ya now? Maybe ya ought to clean out your ears, Rudy Kilmartin. While you're at it, take a bath this year... before school starts."

"Why you little...." Tomas stood between them, sensing the heat.

Rudy folded his arms and surveyed the crooked oak. "Bet you the coins in my pocket, I can beat you to the top, Cal O'Fallon."

"You're on. Tomas will ready us with a whistle."

The wiser spoke. "Don't do this, Cal. I have a bad feelin'. We've never climbed this tree."

"You worry too much! Now, make ready, whistle, and we're off."

"Oh, all right," said Tomas. "Try not to kill yourself. I rather not tell our father of your premature death."

"Quit stalling or I'll change my mind," Rudy snapped.

Overruled, Tomas shook his head, then signaled with his hands. "On your mark, get set... go!" He whistled long as spit went flying.

Cal was up and on in no time, leaving Rudy behind. He reached branch by branch, section by section, never looking down. He didn't notice Rudy had stopped early on, sitting on a limb near the bottom.

All Cal could see was the blue sky and sunshine filtering through the trees. It was exhilarating, drawing him higher and higher. He was almost to the top.

"Cal, stop! You've won. There's no need to go any farther. Please come down!" Tomas was in a panic, but Cal ignored him as he continued up.

A strong gust of wind blew a branch in Cal's face, loosening his grip. The cracking sound said it didn't matter.

The high branch broke, sending Cal to a certain death as his body hit limb after limb all the way down. Miraculously, he was stopped by the largest branch near the base, breaking his fall. Tomas had tried to catch him, but missed. The worst sound was the snap of Cal's leg as he hit the ground.

"No!! Holy God, please no!" Tomas cradled his brother as he lay limp on the ground. Rudy looked on with smug, uncaring eyes; then left in no apparent hurry.

"Rudy... please run and get help. Someone... anyone!"

"That won't be necessary," said Dr. Sedrick McGrath. "I was taking my lunch break on that log over there and heard the commotion."

The angel set aside his bag and went right to work. "Tomas, can you hold your brother for me at his head and help him to remain calm?"

Tomas was numb with wonder. "Yes. I can't believe you're here at the very moment we need a doctor. It's like a miracle."

"I agree," said the angel. "Doctors are in the miracle business. So is the Almighty."

Dr. McGrath patted Cal on the cheek to revive him. However, Tomas was white as a bed linen as he held his twin.

"He's going to be fine, Tomas. Sometimes a lesson learned is painful," said the angel, reassuringly.

Cal came to and spoke. "What are you doing here? I've seen you around these parts. I know... I saw you with my father one day in the street. You remember, Tomas? He and father were taking a walk after Mum died."

"Your father and I are are good friends. I'd guess you could say we're kindred spirits." Before the conversation was over, Cal's leg was set and he was ready for transport.

"If you'll carry my doctor's bag, Lad, I'll carry your brother. My Renault is about a mile from here."

"That's a long way," said Cal. "Maybe my brother could sing a song for us as we go. He has a beautiful voice and he whistles, too."

"I'm awfully partial to hymns," said Tomas. "How about 'His Eye is on the Sparrow?'"

They walked through the wood and sang the sweet song as they headed back to the parsonage, their father watching and waiting from the porch. The parson couldn't see the angel--only Cal limping along with Tomas, leaning on his arm as they came into view.

"What in the world has happened now?" he wondered. Running into the evening, he embraced his sons with open arms.

The O'Fallons would always recall the day they sighted and interacted with the Angel of Ireland; and how Cal's leg was fully healed, Cal leading Ireland's national rugby team in great form.

Tomas O'Fallon was changed from that day, setting his sights on Orthopaedic Surgery, and an earth angel in his own right.