The Magical Legacy

FAITH 4

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH - PRESENT DAY

"What are you talking about? We descend from angels? I've never heard of such a thing."

Faith stood up and turned to look down at her mother, still seated on the couch.

"Honestly, Faith, I don't know that much about it." Mrs. Portner began. "It's not something that's talked about. But there have been whispers, over the years."

"Well, is there someone who does know more about it?" Faith's brows shot up high on her forehead. "Because something really bizarre is happening to me, and I need as much information as I can get about it."

"Hmm..." Her mother pulled the glasses down from on top of her head and put them on the bridge of her nose again. "Normally I would say we should talk to Grandma. But, as you know, she and Grandpa are off on their mission in South Africa, so I'm afraid we can't talk to her right now."

Mrs. Portner got up off the couch and walked to the antiqued yellow desk under the kitchen window. Pulling out a drawer, she withdrew a thick burgundy leather address book, and laid it on the desk's surface. Opening and flipping through some loose pages, she finally stopped, running her index finger down the page until she located the entry she was looking for.

"But I think, maybe, Aunt Dot might be able to help us." She lifted her head and glanced at her daughter.

"Aunt Dot?" Faith repeated the name.

"Yes, you know, she's high up in the women's organization in the church? She and Grandma always used to talk in hushed tones at family gatherings. If anyone would know more about this kind of thing, it would be her. I'll give her a call to see if we can schedule a meeting."

Faith watched as her mother dialed and spoke into the phone. When she hung up, she looked at Faith. "Fabulous. She said she would love to chat and has invited us to her house for lunch tomorrow afternoon."

***

NEXT DAY - AUNT DOT'S HOUSE - SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH

The view out the expansive living room window, overlooking the city, was breath-taking. Faith gazed, appreciatively, at the seasonal beauty of golden sunshine, blue skies, and blossoming crab trees filling her great aunt Dorothy's back yard. The aqua-green patina of the copper dome on the capitol building stood out in stark contrast against the soft pink flowers and glossy burgundy bark covering the trees. Glancing down at the long, pastel-striped damask couch in front of her, Faith thought how elegant, and perfectly clean the space was. There were cut-crystal candy dishes with etched lids on the end tables, and a large cluster of decorative pink-glass grapes dominated the center of the marble-topped coffee table.

Turning to the right, she walked to the formal dining table where several printed manuals were laid out across its surface. Faith was just reaching out to thumb through a booklet when her mother and Aunt Dot entered from the kitchen, china plates in their hands.

"Oh, here, let me move those so we can eat!"

Aunt Dot sat the dishes down on the far end of the table, then moved to start cleaning the materials off the other end. Faith's great aunt was impeccably dressed in apricot polyester slacks with a silky patterned blouse tied in a loose bow at her neck. Gold and pearl earrings graced her lobes, and not a hair of her rusty-colored curls appeared out of place. Faith glanced down and noticed the woman even wore sheer stockings and matching leather heels on her feet. This home environment was so different from the way they lived at her house. For instance, her mother almost always wore slipper-socks she referred to as "sockies" whenever she was hanging out at home.

After placing the plates and silverware in front of three high-back chairs, Aunt Dot turned toward the kitchen again. "Sit, sit!" She said, over her shoulder. Faith and her mom pulled out their seats and sat down, as Aunt Dot returned with a large pitcher of lemonade and trays of food.

"So," she started, as she found her seat at the head of the table, "you want to discuss the family legend about being descendants of the Angels, do you?" She winked at Faith as she lifted a forkful of Waldorf salad to her salmon-colored lips and took a bite.

Faith raised her index finger. She finished chewing, then swallowed, and nodded before quickly taking a sip of her drink. "Yes, please," her eyes darted across the table to where her mother sat, a small grin turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Might I inquire as to what provoked this sudden interest in our family history?" Aunt Dot leveled a cool, gray gaze at her great niece. Then, she carefully turned her fork over and placed the tines, upside down, on the edge of the plate in front of her. She deliberately intertwined her fingers and gingerly rested her hands on top of the linen table cloth.

Faith cleared her throat, and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, before speaking. "Of course. It's just that...I've been having some strange experiences lately." She paused, looking down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Ever since I got my Patriarchal Blessing, really."

"You don't say?" Aunt Dot cocked her head to the side, brows raised slightly on her forehead. "Interesting. I'd love to hear all about that. But you came to me for information, and I promised to do what I can to enlighten you. So, let's get right into it."

She took a quick sip from her goblet before telling the story.

"Are you familiar with the Old Testament verses, in Genesis, talking about the sons of God and the daughters of men?" Her eyes opened wide, and she pursed her lips. Faith pulled her lips to the side and shook her head back and forth, glancing to her mother, then back to Aunt Dot. "Oh, let's just grab the scriptures and read the verses for ourselves." She pushed her chair back and got up, walking to an end table in the adjacent living room, where she located a thick, nubby-leather-bound volume with gilded lettering on the cover. Flipping the book open as she strolled back to the table, she reclaimed her seat.

"Here we go...Genesis 6: 1-4. Why don't you read it for us, Faith?" And she turned the book, handing it, open, to her great niece.

"Oh, ok," Faith's eyes were huge as she reached out with both hands to retrieve the volume. Turning it so that it was right-side-up, she nudged her plate toward the center of the table, then laid the book on its edge in front of her.

"Umm...it says - 'And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose." Faith paused, raising her hand. "I have a question, who are 'the sons of God?' it's talking about?" She looked up from the text, her lips pursed, to gaze at Aunt Dot.

The older woman waved her hand dismissively in the air "Never mind, we'll get to that in a moment. Just keep reading, please." And she pointed her index finger down to the text.

"Oh, ok," Faith looked down and resumed.

"And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years." Faith brushed a stray strand of sandy hair away from her eyes. "There were giants in the earth in those days; (wow!) and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men,"

Faith's cheeks flushed a bright pink and she made a face with her mouth, rolling her eyes at the two women before continuing, "and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown."

"That's it." Faith hefted the book again and handed it, across the table-top, back to Aunt Dot.

After accepting the book, the woman said, "There you have it. That passage is, in essence, the basis upon which the Portner family legend is founded." She smiled brightly at Faith, who stared blankly back at her.

"Ok, so, allow me to expound upon that a bit for you. You know how your father has a document that traces the lineage of his priesthood authority back to Jesus Christ?"

Faith nodded acknowledgment.

"Well, then, it should be fairly easy for you to translate that to the way our family can trace our ancestry back to those sons of God, who, by definition, are Angelic beings. The scripture is clear: 'and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.' Those spoken of are our family ancestors. So, in a very literal sense, we...and that means you...are directly descended from the Angels."

Faith sat silent, staring at her mother.