Michael is an imposing figure. He is very tall, has gray hair, a beard, and dresses for success. When the sun is just at the right angle at this time of year people are often backlit. When Michael is backlit his uniform gray hair creates a halo.
Both Michael and I are afflicted with diseases. Both of our diseases cause dis-ease, both for ourselves and others. Michael and I once blocked the door of a coffee shop as he fished in his pocket for a medal that he wanted to show me. Finally he found the medal, and showed it to me. I had no idea of what it was, nor its significance.
I said that I needed my glasses to read the writing on the medal. But once I had my glasses I still could not read the writing. Michael said, “I can’t read it either.” I was dumbfounded, what was the significance of the medal?
At this point Michael explained to me that it was a medal of Michael the Archangel, that he had obtained in New Orleans.