On a trip to Mexico, I bought a wooden carved statue of archangel Michael. He stood fourteen inches tall, had majestic wings, and held a mighty sword above his head. I was always drawn to Michael as a protector and guide, long before I ever knew I would need him. During an earthquake, Michael fell, or jumped, he won’t say if he was committing angelic suicide to escape me. I was heartbroken because his beautiful wings snapped off in the fall. I tired to reattach them, but I couldn’t restore him to his former grandeur. I thought to myself, what good is Michael without his wings? He seemed less magical, and certainly less divine. I was going to throw him away, because I was not interested in keeping a statue of a wingless man holding a wooden sword. All of a sudden three questions popped into my mind. Isn’t he still Michael? Isn’t he still an angel? Could I also be an angel who’s lost my wings? All of a sudden I saw wingless Michael in a new light. We weren’t so different now. He was no longer way above me, but by my side. When I came to earth, didn’t I too give up my wings? Are we not all wingless earth angels? In Kabbalistic folklore, there’s a story about the Lamed-Vovniks. They are the thirty-six angels sent to earth to do good, and bring light. The thirty-six are unknown to the world, and even unknown to themselves. They never realize how special they are. Is it possible that you might be one of the thirty-six? Why not be an angel on earth? The broken statue taught me that even without his wings, Michael was as powerful and beautiful as before. There is a spark of divinity in all of us. You might be wingless, but you can still be a bringer of light, and an angel on earth. I thank you for the beautiful light you bring to this world.