Diary of an Angel

An art restorer and conservator by profession, Leonard Day is also an award-winning fine artist and writer. Leonard received his B.A. and M.A. in art education and studio arts from Fort Hays State University in Kansas, and is considered an authority on angels, especially in the area of angel encounters with the dying.

His paintings are found in several private collections, and is best known for his pen and ink drawings and watercolors. His drawings have graced the pages of The Angels' Little Diet Book and Angels' A-Z which is devoted to articles and art on the subject.

Besides lecturing throughout the country on angels and their daily interaction in our lives, Leonard is actively involved with his local church and is a certified lay speaker with the church conference. He is also a contributing editor to the monthly journal Direct Pathways and hosts a weekly radio program called "Speaking of Angels". He and his wife reside in High Point, NC.

FROM PAGE 34: The responsibility of being the oldest son had afforded him the opportunity to work alongside his father Joseph, but now even more was expected of him. Now his hands were expected to produce the quality that Joseph had maintained, yet he felt an urgent call from within, a call that lay outside the walls of the shop. Indeed the work of his hands would provide security, but for him the voices beyond the hillside held the truth of his destiny. Visions of men and angels penetrated his days, while questioning shared his nights. Many times in the dead of night he would hide his face in the pillow, or run to fields in the light of day trying to escape the voices proclaiming him as God's chosen. As his spirit searched, Joseph's condition worsened, demanding more of his time, yet as his duties increased so did the visions. Then one day he was greeted with the urgent faces of his brothers and sisters. By way of seeking his counsel, they were reminding him of his responsibility to their mother. He was aware of the entwining law of the land, but he listened intently to their point of view and said little. The twilight of Joseph's death was lingering and their voices still echoed in the very woodwork of the shop. His hands reached out for the compassion of the wood, and for a moment he could feel the cleansing of his heart and mind. He closed his eyes and waited to caress the prayer of his heart.