Angel came in to my life on my 50th birthday. She was a snow white feral kitten. I found her on my back deck. She waited patiently while I slowly walked over to pick her up. I estimated her age at 3-4 weeks. When I placed her in my arms I could see she was severely disabled. She had no tail and what was back there was infected and swollen. She had obviously be outsted from the clan of feral cats that run the woods and countryside. Angel stayed in the hospital for 3 days for antibiotics and sitz baths twice daily. When I brought Angel home I prepared her a bed of soft towels and sheepskin. She had to be fed with a medicine dropper for a week. She then graduated to canned food, mashed and hand fed. When I walked in to the room where Angel stayed, she would meow and reach for me. She truly believed me to be her mother. She snuggled in to my arms and was quite content to just stay there. She required constant care with warm baths,antibiotics, vitamins and trying to keep her warm. Her face was one of an angel-so expressive, so content when I would sing Amazing Grace to her, and sometimes I could see that fleeting hint of pain. Her young life had been so miserable. Yet, I could hear her tell me she loved me and appreciated what I was doing for her. On her last night with me, she ate more than usual and purred while I bathed her, holding her until she was completely dry and sang her song. I placed her in her little bed and she snuggled down. I thought this is the turning point, she is going to get better. How right I was but in a completely different way. The next morning I went downstairs to feed Angel and the other cats. When I turned on the lights, she didn't meow. When I picked her up, she was so cold and having trouble breathing. I wrapped her in a soft blanket and held her. I knew Angel was dying. I believe Angel knew she was dying and had survived the night only because she was waiting for me. I grieved with her in my arms. I asked God to tell my mother that I was sending her a special kitten. I called my vet to tell him Angel was dying but I did not want her to suffer. I was on my in to his office not to save her but to help her die without pain. I knew she could not be saved. My husband drove the car so I could hold Angel. About half way to the vet, Angel looked up at me, meowed and stopped breathing. Angel died in my arms the way she would want. We buried her in our rose garden. Angel was in my life only 3 weeks but gave so much love and taught me about patience and proved that kindness and a gentle touch can accomplish so much. God sends angels in many forms and that beautiful little sick cat was my angel for a short while but touched my life forever.