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Christmas for an Angel
The city. It is beautiful when you look upon it from above late at night. You do not see the dirt or the grime. The homeless or the destitute. The poor or the rich. You see lights. From the buildings, cars still out, street lights, and bill boards. All colors and sizes. The soft ruffle of a breeze as I sit here and listen to the quiet voices that I hear every day, hour, minute, and second of my life. The Christmas lights are an addition. Little spots of twinkling lights among the normal lights.

I shift my weight on the cornice and get more comfortable. For this is the time of year that everyone remembers the one that was born to give all of humanity a chance at a new life. My horn always at my side. It's a little tarnished with disuse, but that is a good thing. For it has not come a time that I would need it. The prayers this year are for loved ones over seas. There are prayers for the terminally ill. A few selfish Prayers, but they are still in line with some views of what is needed to survive in this modern age. The one above could never have imagined how his favorites would grow after they spread across the world. Their ideas sparkle like so many lights themselves. Though there is a darker side of things. There is a war across the oceans. People dying even on this day that is held holy by so many different cultures. There is not much me or my Brothers and Sisters can do. We have been forbidden to interfere any more, but that doesn't mean we cannot go and help where we can with out directly interfering. Our own War happened one year on this very day. This was eons ago. Before he was born. Many of humanity only celebrated being alive midway through the winter because of this. Then he was born and humanity added celebrating his birth. Then that Saint who was inspired to make children happy as well, got added into it. Good man that Saint, never did have children of his own, but he was a good man. I think of all of this and stare at the lights. Then there is a soft prayer. Not human, but quietly persistent. I lift myself out of my contemplations and memories. Softly I alight and drift like the snow to the ground near where this soft prayer is. I find a young kitten whose mother had just died from being hit by a car. Her soul already gone to hunt among the ferns of Eden. Her little daughter mews as she sees me. I pick the kit up and we stare into each other's eyes. Her pale gold to my soft grey. I fold my wings and smile. Tuck her into my clothing where she snuggles into the warmth. I walk out onto the street and down the sidewalk. Humanity just starting to stir around me. I enter my apartment and no one notices the raven black wings or the small kit as I go into my home on earth. God knows where I am. He knows what I see. Both suffering and the happiness. I close the door and let the kit go to explore. I'll set up a pan for her later and get her some food. A plain white envelope sits on my table. I open it up and there in elegant script with a soft glow about it on soft home made paper. "Merry Christmas Gabriel. -God". I smile. Now I know why I heard the smallest prayer among the many. He does work in mysterious ways.

God Bless and Merry Christmas to you all.



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