It was what you call a windfall. I was picking up a lunch order from the local café and the owner offered me a cake. 

"It accidentally got the wrong number on it, and the customer didn't want it."

Well, he didn't have to ask twice. Not only is it great to be able to have my cake and eat it too, chocolate holds a particular sweet spot. My mother mentioned it in her final hours, as she lay mumbling. Which is proof enough to me that calories are of no concern in the afterlife. 

I arrived at my friend's office, where we enjoyed our burritos as we caught up on one another's lives. Then I brought out the cake. She shares an office with other cake eaters, and it was a poplar contribution to their menus. It made me happy. 

What adds to the wonder is that I did next to nothing. I neither mixed the batter nor paid the price. But here I was in the enviable position of sharing dessert. One might call me a messenger. 

I drove home smiling at the serendipity of it all. Much of my life reflects this happenstance. When I posted a lamp I no longer use on the social media page for such exchanges, I got to bring light to someone else's dark corner. Not that I invented the bulb, or paid the electric bill. Someone on that page expressed a need for a dining room table, and I responded. We had one that was hanging around, and she came to fetch it. Now it is the centerpiece for her family's supper. A friend with a glorious garden makes bouquets that I have the joy of delivering to people celebrating an anniversary. 

The word angel technically means messenger, and these ordinary miracles of gifting someone what they need comes pretty close to my idea of what heaven will be like. Cake with no calories served on a friend's table with flowers grown in someone else's garden.