Prologue: An Angel
A gentle hush cloaked the land. The faint bells of Christmas could be heard in the distance.
Warm lights from every house lit up the small town, as the pale moon hung alone in the sky. A small boy, around the age of five stared out of his frost-laced window into the cold night. That was when the first flakes of snow began to fall.
Ever so gently.
“Chip! Dinner’s ready!”
The boy hurried down the stairs to meet his family of nine, who were setting up the table for their Christmas dinner at the pantry of their family bakery.
They said their prayers, and then dined in comfortable silence. They were content.
The family began to make small conversations among themselves, none of them including the boy, and so he looked into the distance, behind the counter, his gaze passing the translucent glass doors of the bakery.
Although business was closed for the night, a stack of left over bread sat neatly in the oven, warm and heated.
The orange lights of his home gave the boy a warm and fuzzy feeling in his heart. He didn’t know the word for it at that time, but he was sure it was something good.
That was when something caught his eye.
A movement just beside the doors of the entrance.
It was a boy, not more than seven years old, wrapped in a checkered scarf and clothes that definitely could not keep him warm in such freezing weather.
The boy in the bakery thought about how it would feel to be wandering on the streets on a cold Christmas night. He thought it felt horrible.
So he slipped from his chair silently, made his way to the oven, and placed two hot-crossed buns into a paper bag. Then he opened the door of the bakery, the bells above jingling, and hurried after the boy.
The boy in the black scarf was holding a girl’s hand. She looked only two, clad in the thinnest of cloth.
He tapped the boy on the shoulder, and handed him the bag with hot buns.
“Happy Christmas!” The bakery boy beamed.
The other boy looked stunned, unable to catch his words, his mouth hung agape, as he clutched the bag of warm bread.
“Chip! What are you doing? Come back here!” A motherly voice called out, beckoning the boy to return.
Waving goodbye and still smiling, the boy retreated into the warmth of the bakery, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold.
As the flakes of white snow fell and collected on his clothes, the boy in the cold found himself thinking about the angel he saw.
Maybe. Just maybe. Angels do exist afterall.
A/N Hi everyone! This is my first boyxboy, I hope you like it! :)