Her name was Elisabeth but she was to be called “Beth”.

She was tall with long, wavy brown hair and the face of an angel because, she was an angel.

I was just 11 years old, when I saw her in my pantry.

I was searching for a snack.  My mom passed me by with a laundry basket full of clothes.

I paid no mind until I heard, from what seemed a distance, “Lauuuuureeeennn.”

I replied, “YEA?!”

No answer.

“YEA?!”

And then I felt it.

An energy.  A tingling on the back of my neck.  A movement of air.

I turned and she took my breath away.

She was beautiful, and without hesitation, I knew exactly who she was.

Elisabeth.

In her white dress, floating.

A smile crept upon her face, as if to say, “I’m here.  I see you. I’m with you, always.”

And then she evaporated right before my very eyes.

Immediately, I felt my heart restart, pumping so hard, I could feel it through my chest.  I gasped for air and screamed out for my mother.

She came downstairs and I pleaded with her, already knowing the answer, “Mom.  Did you call my name?  Did you CALL MY NAME?!”

She, confused and concerned, reassured me that she hadn’t.

Shaking, I processed what I had seen and felt and have kept close to my heart for the last 25 years.

I had seen her, my sister Elisabeth, gone before I was born.

And today, I see her still, in the face of my daughter, Elizabeth Joy.

My guardian angel.