Jorge Parada
One winged angelO
ne Winged Angel tells the story of an angel that
cannot fly because he only has one wing on his
back, and in order to find the missing wing to fly,
he starts to travel looking for it. Wonderful!!!!
It is during this trip when he finds other people that are also
looking for something missing in their lives and that is what we
see in every chapter of the book: several meetings which show
us a great range of abilities and differences that make the reader
think and feel in an emotive way that lets us receive well the
background message.
One winged angel is an educational and instructive book with a
clear underlying message and very appropriate from a teaching
context.
It is a perfect reading for Families, Schools and most of all, for
sensitive and emotional people.
“- Do you know what an angel with one winged is called?
- I don´t know! But I don´t know what a child with an extra wing is called either!”
9 788494 179280
This is not
just a book.
This is a gift
from destiny
for you
Este
no es un libro,
es un regalo
del destino
Este
no es un libro,
es un regalo
del destino
AuthorJorge Parada
Artistic DirectorJorge Parada
Illustration, cover and inside Patricia Ballesteros Amat
TranslatorMaría Bach
Pintor Sorolla 22 3A46002 – Valencia – Spaininvitrodesign.com
I.S.B.N. 978-84-941792-8-0
One winged angelJorge Parada
Imagine
the soul as if it was a beautiful
bird and our body, its cage.
Imagine a beautiful bird inside
a cage and he cannot sing.
He couldn´t feel himself to be a greater prisoner!
The author.
Chapter 1.
Birth
12
W henever I look at the belly of a pregnant
mother, I can grasp the meaning of existence.
For in life there is life bearing itself yet another life,
streaming forth like a cord, a continuation of ourselves,
spiraling into eternity.
Lying inside the warmth of my heart, I would imagine
cities and amusement parks. It was then, thinking of
playing when I thought of flying my kite....and suddenly
there was a belly and then there was a sky and sun, sun
what shone so brilliantly...!
Whenever there’s a brilliant sun the clouds are
beautiful.
Playing outside those cities and parks, I noticed that
there were clouds in the sky which captured my
imagination. When one looks at the sky the clouds
have all kinds of shapes, the kind of shapes which your
imagination can turn into anything.
13
The why and wherefore of these clouds is the why
and wherefore of this story.
As a mother to be, she felt that her belly was made
of very white, downy, translucent clouds, making
her whole body lighter. Sometimes in her dreams,
she would be afraid that her belly might float away
from her, levitating like the balloons that children
play with in the park.
Finally, it was time for that being to be let out. A being
who from now on would be there with everyone.
His arrival was like opening the windows of a house
for the light to enter, and play and shine its truth
into every corner where the dark that is brought on by
emptiness allows no thing; to be seen.
His parents needed him and he wanted to grow up
joyfully with the magic power of love.
Chapter 2.
From strange to departure
16
I t was on that morning when his parents noticed
a physical rarity on the child’s body. On the right
side of his back there was a prominent hump covered
by very fine gray down. Concerned as to how this
might affect their son’s life, they consulted all kinds of
doctors and specialists. None of them, however, could
explain, diagnose, suggest treatment or least of all,
foresee its evolution.
There is no worse anguish for a parent than to have to
wait for a completly unpredictable development.
Therefore, in their deepest love they sheltered him
shrouding their resignation, and the Lord of Time who
knows not of this own existence, quickened his pace.
In a very short time, that gray hump had become a
dazzling wing!
It was very difficult to cope with such uncertainties, as
hard as tucking the child in, making him comfortable,
17
carrying him around and so many other details. Their
hope for another hump on the other side gradually
vanished like the little clouds that the wind blows away.
One day this little boy, the “ angel of the clear smile”
for so he was called, heard the winds blow nearby.
He noticed that those winds always pushed his clouds
in one direction; to The Garden of Ea -where all the
rivers join the ocean and the ocean meets the sky.
One night as he slept, the sky in his dreams pointed
out a path for him to travel on.
Could it possibly be time to leave?
And it was on that spring afternoon
that he bade farewell to all his
loving friends. His mother felt
that “this time her little
balloon would reach his
highest cloud”, and the
father resigned himself to
18
the departure and trusted with all his heart in a time
to come which might bring his beloved son his sense
of completeness. Without a tear and with a smile on
his face, the boy left his hometown, a pilgrim on a
chosen path, seeking his own Garden of Ea -where all
the rivers join the ocean and the ocean meets the sky.
Only a pebble in his boot would deter him for a few
moments; he courage and greatness of his precious
being upheld him, as if his effort were meant to last
throughout eternity.
Chapter 3.
An old man with no hope
22
A fter a great deal of traveling, Angel arrived at
a village where he came upon an old man with
only one leg.
He cheerfully greeted him courteously.
“How are you doing, sir?”
Somewhat reluctant and ironically the old man
answered:
“Very well, but not very happy; like yourself
perhaps...”
Not understanding very well, Angel asked,
Why do you say that?”
The old man smiled as he leaned on his wooden leg,
and lowered his gaze:
“I see one of your wings is missing.”
As lightly as if someone had tried to knock him down
23
with a feather, Angel replied:
“That should not be a problem. I am on my way to
The Garden of Ea, where all the rivers stream
into the ocean and the ocean meets the sky, and
where I am sure to come upon it.”
Amid mocking peals of laughter and a great show of
gestures, the reply was:
“You can never recover anything that is incomplete.
I lost my leg once in an accident under a heavy
cartwheel and even if I traveled to the moon I
doubt that I would find it.”
With an expression of utter confidence, Angel stressed:
“I didn’t lose my wing, I never had it.”
To this the old man harshly inquired:
“How can you only have one part without having
ever lost the other?. Like only one eye, one arm,
24
or those who are lame... do you know what an
angel with a missing wing is called?”
Angel stared hard at the aged countenance, as if he
wanted to see into those eyes that had become so
worn out from looking at the wrong side of things;
“No, I don’t know how a child with one wing too
many is called.”
Vexed, wanting the conversation to end, the old man
replied:
“To know that, you will have to know what you are.”
His mocking laughter still rang out as he went away
from Angel saying:
“Go on to The Garden of Ea. That’s where my leg was
lost.”
Although somewhat disheartened by this encounter
and with a slightly bitter aftertaste, Angel continued
his journey undaunted.
The road to travel on was hard and it was only by
zeal that his mind could find a reason to justify the
existence of an aged being whose life no longer held
even a glimmer of hope.
Chapter 4.
The child
28
S till on the path, unflagging, he saw from afar a
second village, where to his delighted surprise he
came upon a boy close to his own age. Dazzled by the
beauty and the radiance of Angel’s white wing, the boy
asked:
“Would you let me touch it gently?”
Angel outstretched his wing which brushed lightly
against the boy’s hand as if wanting to touch those
small fingers.
Entranced by this wonderful sensation, the boy
remarked:
“It’s so soft! Softer than the feathers of my uncle’s
pheasant!”
Humbly, Angel just said:
“I don’t think so; they’re probably very much the
same.”
Still mystified by the encounter, the boy declared,
“I would give anything to have a wing like yours.”
“What would you do with one like it?”
Looking at the sky, the boy stated,
“I would probably just fly all the time and visit
faraway places and float over the clouds.”
Motionless, Angel said,
“I can’t fly; if I had my other wing I
probably could.”
Intently, then,
“If you can’t fly with one
wing, then of what use is
such a beautiful wing to
you?”
30
A little sadly perhaps, Angel shrugged,
“I don’t know.”
And to assuage the situation the boy said:
“Don’t be sad, I’ve got an eye that won’t cry.”
Angel was intrigued. In a voice that was full of a
gentleness, gingerly, so as not to cause him any pain
by meddling, he said.
“Tell me about this eye of yours that cannot cry.”
Breathing hard, the child replied:
“Whenever I go through a time of sorrow, if I cry,
only my right eye does. I always ask older people
to tell me sad stories for me to be able to cry, but
I have never been able to with this eye. If I were
like you and had one wing alone, and could not
31
fly... I always could cry with this eye also out of
sadness!”
Undisturbed, Angel replied,
“I have never cried, and I am not sad because I am
traveling to The Garden of Ea to find my other
wing. If you want to join me you will probably find
the tears for this eye of yours.”
The other, gratefully, inquired,
“Won’t my company bother you?”
Angel smiled and took the boy by his hand
as he continued on his way.
Chapter 5.
The witch
34
U pon reaching the third village they came upon
a very ugly woman, perhaps even too ugly to
be true or even uglier. Angel addressed her politely as
he introduced his friend, explaining.
“We are on our way to The Garden of Ea, I, to find
my wing and he to find his tears.”
Devoid of all expression, she snatched Angel’s hand
and whispered into his ear:
“If you wanted to, I could change the boy into your
left wing, but one of his eyes cannot cry, so your
wing might not be able to fly”.
Angel drew away from her at once, not understanding
her attitude and sharply replied:
“I would not change my friend for a wing even if I
were able to fly with it!”
36
Like a wild beast that has lost its prey, the woman
whirled around to the other boy, whispering:
“If you want to, I can turn your friend into tears for
your eye, but as he only has one wing, chose tears
might not let you see when you cry”.
He threw her aside in disgust:
“Angel is my friend, and the only hope of finding my
tears. I would not have him changed even if my
tears allowed me to see”.
And the woman who was really a witch disappeared in
a flash.
Chapter 6.
Living puppets
40
T he two boys’ hands locked in a firm clasp as if to
seal a fraternal pact.
They continued on their journey pausing every now
and then for a moment’s rest and to drink some water
under the shelter of a shady tree, until they came upon
the fourth village. They wandered all over if and were
perplexed to find no one, Angel mused.
“Where could they all be?”
The boy was bewildered:
“Perhaps they’ve gone to Ea”.
Drawing from the experience gathered throughout his
travels, Angel’s reply to his friend was,
“Ea is not a place within everybody’s reach. It is
different and not easy to find. To get there, you
must possess great strength of will together with
a spiritual purpose that will provide you with the
41
guidance for that search”.
“I needed you to find out about Ea. How will others
be able to know?”
“Maybe it takes feeling strange...”
The boy: “Do you mean very sad?”
“No. Sadness is probably only feeling devoid of
something precious to us.
But if we have not actually lost it, then the feeling may
be too deep for us to understand what we really feel”.
Understanding, the boy agreed:
“Then I think my problem is sadness. When it rains
my eye hurts from trying so hard to imitate
the raindrops. And whenever a raindrop does
enter my eye, it breathes like the plants and the
trees and the flowers do under the touch of the
42
raindrop’s cool water. I can feel my eye missing
the wetness of that little drop inside my chest,
tearing my chest apart to let the sadness out.”
In resignation,
“No, not all of it.”
They were suddenly surprised to see a brightly lit
signpost that garishly announced a live puppet show
in the town’s main theater.
They quickened their steps and came upon a lot of
people lining up to buy their tickets. ( Possibly all of
the townsfolk.)
The last one in the queue was a father who said with
courtesy and respect:
“Good afternoon.”
The man looked at him and believed that he would no
longer be the last in line. He pointed upwards to the
little girl who cried out:
“Hallo! I’m Rosemary. Look how tall I am.”
The girl, who felt that she was on top of the world’s
highest mountain and under the protection of her
father’s shoulders pointed out with her little finger,
the one we use to point at things,
“Who is that?”
With a smile Angel replied:
“That’s my friend; he’s
coming with me to the
Garden of Ea.”
The man pretended that
he was uninterested,
“That’s far? I prefer
44
waiting for the performance. It’s sure to be more
fun”.
Angel’s friend was amazed at all this.
“It must be a wonderful show to attract all these
people”.
The father cast his eyes downwards and with some
diffidence responded,
“We don’t actually know. It’s the first time it has
come to town”.
The two travellers felt their confusion increase;
“Have you been waiting very long?”
Then the man feared that somewhere within that
already marred little body further damage might take
place:
“For many years; but some people have been here
45
longer. I am the last one as it took such a long
time for me to make up my mind. But I finally did
and am happy about it as I will bring my little girl
immense joy and lessen her suffering. She is not
a normal child in the sense that she has not been
able to walk since birth, and is happy to wait on
my shoulders”.
Ready and willing to be of assistance in whichever way
he could, Angel’s friend invited them to join them
on the path they had set out on.
The girl would probably be cured in the Garden
of Ea and avoid the long wait.
The man was doubtful but he replied gratefully,
“I was the last in deciding to join this line. I
cannot let this chance go and waste any
more time by leaving. I am sure that this is
the great show I am waiting for”.
Chapter 7
The teacher
48
T hey said goodbye and kept from looking back
so that the pain caused to them by such a sorry
sight would not be so great.
While they hurried, Angel remarked,
“I felt we were the only ones who were really seeing
the show. Fortunately, The Garden of Ea really
does exist”.
Taken by the girl, the other boy replied,
“There were moments when I could not keep my
eyes off her, even if it meant that I would have to
be the last in that long line. If there is anything
beyond the Garden of Ea, I will certainly return to
be at her side”.
Angel seeing the sweetness in the boy’s thoughts
knew that his friend would find the tears that were so
49
precious to him and that he so very much wanted.
They continued on their journey, through the rain and
through the cold, across flooded paths and reached the
fifth village. As they entered they were struck by the
cleanliness and neatness which was all around them
and as they breathed, the air was familiar to them and
their souls were filled with sensations.
“What are these children doing out of school at class
time?”.
“But Ma’am”, countered a bewildered Angel, “my
friend and I are travelling to the Garden of Ea”.
“By no means!”.
She provided a school desk and two chairs, pencil and
paper and other school material, then told them to
wash their hands. The child stood firm in defending
his goal,
“We are very grateful to you, ma’am, but our course
is The Garden of Ea”.
With the voice of authority the teacher answered,
“There is no one who can keep you from that
course, but first things come first, you must know
your lesson well”.
The teacher’s class began with the following words:
“Knowledge is fundamental so that we can
distinguish ourselves from the rest”.
“But ma’am, we have already been to school”, Angel
pointed out.
51
With the authority of one who knows, the teacher
replied,
“If you have been to school and know the lesson,
please tell me what The Garden of Ea is”.
Both boys were staggered upon realizing they shared
the same beliefs.
“I don’t know. Angel told me that it’s the place where
I will be able to find the tears for my other eye
and where he will find his missing wing”.
The teacher’s next words were voiced very slowly,
“We always feel that all our questions will somehow
be answered, but the answers are only within
ourselves.
The place you call The Garden of Ea, where all the
rivers join the ocean and the ocean meets the sky, is
a symbolic place. But is does, however, exist when
52
the right path is chosen with a visionary spirit, with
joy, with perseverance and with humility. I found the
Garden that you seek right here, and that you should
now know this is a great satisfaction to me, as my
mission is therefore fulfilled.
You see, I could not live in a garden of Ea other than
mine...”
With eyes of infinite tenderness and authoritarian
bearing she rang the bell...
“Children, collect your things and be on your way.
Class is over”.
Chapter 8.
Special performance
56
A nd in an elation mingled with so many questions
they resumed their journey. Once more
on a path no easier than the ones before, physically
exhausted, they came upon the sixth village, which
looked like a huge tent.
A little man with a green ticket book in his hand stood
at the entrance, offering them a ticket and promising
them the best of shows.
“Please take the tickets and be sure not to
lose them; at the end of the show we will
hold a raffle with two fabulous prizes”.
“We have no money to pay for the show:”
“That should be not a problem. You are the
only and most awaited of spectators, so
hurry up, the show is about to start”.
Angel was greatly excited. He saw the lights
57
turn on and a great stage appear before him.
The other boy’s eyes were wide open, in fact, as wide
open as his mouth was. A band of deaf musicians
performed for them with strains and melodies so
sweet the like of which our pilgrims had never heard
or expected to hear.
Suddenly the spotlight fell on the centre of the stage
onto which the master of ceremonies stepped to
comment on the feats the players were about to
execute.
The bewildered spectators understood what was being
expressed, although it was only through signs the man
made with his hands.
The man was dumb!
How could they hear his words when these lacked
all sound?. But the magic in the movements of those
fingers conveyed a meaning of almost unbelievable
depth to their souls.
A light of deepest emerald green focused on the main
actor “Minus”, a child who, with only two movements
of his head like an autism, poured forth feelings of
unequalled wealth.
59
Each pore of his skin emanated dreams of beauty,
his every look and breath displaying the candour of a
celestial being who was expressing his thanks to life.
But where were the sounds, sights, gestures and
movements?
All of the spectators were physically disabled, some
couldn’t walk, others neither seen or hear, nor speak,
nor applaud.
When the show was over the master of ceremonies
announced that among the tickets there were two prizes
and that the winners were a boy and a half-angel.
They were congratulated for winning such a fantastic
prize. Angel knew that he had far more blessings than
that to count:
“What do the prizes consist in?”
The euphoric answer to this was that they would now
become the troupe’s new members.
“You, Angel, will fly with your only wing, and you,
boy, will cry with your eye that has no tears”.
Angel, who felt confused and at the same time flattered,
expressed his gratitude.
“All of you are wonderful and to be here with you is
like living the most beautiful dreams in reality, but
we cannot accept, as we choose to continue on
our search for the Garden of Ea”.
The master of ceremonies said:
“This is the Garden of Ea and we offer it to you”.
Tearfully, moved to the utmost, Angel embraced them
warmly and decided it was time to leave.
Chapter 9.
The arrival
64
T his is how the hardest of departures began, a
road as difficult as the others and perhaps the
longest.
“Angel, my feet hurt. Could you carry me for a
while?”
Angel, also exhausted, mostly from having to put up with
his heavy wing’s constant weight, tried nevertheless to
carry him, but the boy found his energy again inspired
with this example and continued, steadfast.
“I should have stayed in the tent; I felt a little tear
sprout from my eye”.
Angel, delighted, asked him,
“Do you want to go back?”
“No, I’ll continue to the end. After all, I want lots of
tears for my eye”.
65
They made out the seventh village, in a lush
green forest of great trees and small
cabins, smoky chimneys, gardens and
fresh fragrances.
The first person they met
as they walked into the
village was an artist, who
was deeply stirred by the
presence of these two
visitors and invited them to
his studio. Angel was happy to meet an
artist and asked him ,
“Is it pleasing to be an artist?”
“More than that. It is a feeling of such great
emotion, that it can only be released
through our work”.
On entering the studio, the boy,
66
whose eyes were on everything, asked,
“Why is one an artist?”
The artist looked within himself and replied:
“The abundance of feelings that dwell within oneself
and are released through art are so vast that
this is the only means or possibility by which
to express them. It’s as if the soul were the
interpreter of the works”.
The other boy who was still closely looking at all the objects
around them, suddenly stumbled across a picture of such
beauty, that on seeing it, Angel stood as one transfixed,
mesmerised, and with a joy so intrinsic, cried out,
“SHE’S THE ONE I’M LOOKING FOR!”
Without knowing, Angel had begun his long pilgrimage
for this meeting.
67
The painting showed a lovely girl with a wing on her
left side.
The artist cried out;
“This is my daughter, and she is here! My prayers
have been answered!”
He pointed out the path on which he would find her
gathering flowers and looking for the inspiration for her
poems.
Angel, holding fast onto his friend’s hand, ran as
he had never run before.
He saw her as soon as he entered the forest.
There she was. Right there.
Already breathless he came up to her and took
her hand. Both of them were unaware of
the fluttering of the boy’s eyes, who, on
seeing a sight of such awesome beauty,
68
began to cry. And the tears that flowed from the eye
that could not cry became an unquenchable stream,
the abundance of which made it unending.
He had understood that his eye that would not cry
would not do so out of sadness, but out of the depths
of a great and overwhelming emotion On which was
joy.
Find your Garden of Ea and you will find the purpose
of your life. If there is anything you lack, there is
something you have too much of .Then find someone to
share it with.
Find your Garden of Ea!
You have finished this winged book and I want to thank you for
sharing this wonderful journey with me. Other gentle stories are
waiting for you on my website www.jorgeparada.org
You can contact me here and find out about all my work as well.
There are plenty of messages waiting for you to discover.
You can also continue to receive Jorge Parada´s thoughts
and reflections on our Facebook site www.facebook.com/
jorgeparadaautor where you will find other sensitive readers
willing to share their experiences and emotions after reading this
story.
Jorge and I invite you to keep flying with us.
This journey has not finished yet...
Angelo & Jorge
This book was finished the 2nd july 2013, while feathers
rained down on the city.
Jorge Parada
One winged angelO
ne Winged Angel tells the story of an angel that
cannot fly because he only has one wing on his
back, and in order to find the missing wing to fly,
he starts to travel looking for it. Wonderful!!!!
It is during this trip when he finds other people that are also
looking for something missing in their lives and that is what we
see in every chapter of the book: several meetings which show
us a great range of abilities and differences that make the reader
think and feel in an emotive way that lets us receive well the
background message.
One winged angel is an educational and instructive book with a
clear underlying message and very appropriate from a teaching
context.
It is a perfect reading for Families, Schools and most of all, for
sensitive and emotional people.
“- Do you know what an angel with one winged is called?
- I don´t know! But I don´t know what a child with an extra wing is called either!”
9 788494 179280