I always get irritated when stores start putting out Christmas decorations in October. I just don’t care for the commercialization of Christmas—all holidays, for that matter. It seems it’s all about money and profits these days, and we often lose sight of what we are celebrating.
Well, here I am jumping the gun and posting a Christmas story in October! It’s Bluebell Books’ fault! Their story prompt hit me this way, and I had no control over what came rushing out onto the page. Sorry!
(I hope you enjoy the story!)
I was a child again, and I had no idea who the little girl was, or how she’d gotten on such a high limb in our tree.
“You should come down from there!” I shouted, staring up at her.
She paid me little mind, just kept reading the book she held in front of her. I thought I could make out the word LIFE in big white letters on the sky blue cover.
“How did you get up there?” I asked.
She gave me a quick glance, but said nothing.
I looked down, resting my neck and rubbing it with one hand, and when I looked up again she was staring down at me curiously.
I probably looked quite curious too, as I studied a vine that hadn’t been there before, but was now twisted around the trunk and limbs of the big oak. The vine’s leaves were of many different pale colors. I’d never seen anything like it.
“Do you like it?” the girl asked, swinging her legs and smiling down at me.
“It’s beautiful!” I said. “How did you do it?”
She giggled and said, “I didn’t do it, silly. Do you think I’m a magician, or something?”
“Well, you must be because otherwise you wouldn’t be up there.”
Her laughter was musical as she leaned toward me and said. “You are a funny boy.”
“Well, how then?” I asked.
“My Father put me up here,” she said.
I had a sudden burning desire to know who her Father was. I’d never felt so curious about anything. It was as if I knew Him, He knew me, and He was calling to me. I began to swell with joy at the feeling.
“Can I meet Him?” I asked, excitedly.
“You just did,” she said, grinning and giggling.
She rose to her feet; beautiful wings unfurling behind her, as the leaves on the vine lit up in all the brilliant colors of the rainbow; the giant oak suddenly appearing to be a very large Christmas tree. She floated slowly to the top of the tree then sat atop it for a moment, and I felt a warm glow flood over my body.
She began to fade from sight then, as did the vine and bright colored leaves, and just before she was no longer visible, she said, “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”
I awoke in my big chair; Sherry was in the chair next to mine; she was smiling at me; and across the room the many-colored lights on the Christmas tree twinkled merrily. The angel on top of the tree glowed white and bright then all the lights blinked off—the automatic timer doing its job.
“Did you hear me?” Sherry asked.
“No,” I said. “I think I dozed off. What did you say?”
Her smile widened. “I said, Merry Christmas Charlie.”
I smiled and felt the same warm glow I’d felt in the dream wash over me again, as I thought how lucky I was to have my very own angel.
Written for and posted on Bluebell Books’ Short Story Slam – week 13
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