| UNSEEN ANGELS By Rose Demarest 12/23/01 As I sit on my couch I look at the tree, glistening in all its beauty, bright lights, decorations and tinsel all aglow� the thoughts cross my mind as a tear falls from my eye: This Christmas, like all others, will be nothing more than a dream: a hoax; a cruel, cruel joke. The sound of laughter catches my attention as I look to my children playing and singing, not knowing that the one they believe in is about to let them down. The thought doesn�t seem to cross their minds as they run and jump and play� The laughter in their hearts I pray will always stay. The only thing left for a mothers broken heart is to have a miracle happen so her babies won�t be torn apart. As I watch, a figure catches my eye� the one decoration that goes unnoticed: a small little angel sitting up high with a tiny light shining bright. I offer up a silent prayer� If only we had an angel that would care; A small little miracle�yet so great, that one could only hope and then forget. As I tuck the kids in their bed I shut off the light and listen as I usually did� their words like a knife went thru my heart as I sank to the floor and knelt in the dark. �Santa is bringing me a new doll!� �I want a Barbie that stands way tall!� �I�m getting a car under the tree!� �Well, I�m getting an oven that makes real tea!� As tears fell from my eyes I knew that it was only time till a mother would have to break the news to eight little eyes that Santa again would not arrive. To the office and my computer I slipped away, not really wanting to talk with my friends that day. But as I sat and watched the screen an email appeared I just had to go see. A simple holiday wish brought tears to my eyes and smile to my face as I abruptly replied. �I wish I could tell you what this has meant to a heart so broken and a life whose joy had been taken.� Then all of a sudden my angel arrived bearing good tidings and great joy�I cried as that heart that was broken inside started mending itself right before my eyes. As I watched my children on Christmas day as they opened their gifts and laughed and played� Something took over, not sure what it was, but I told my children please lets stop to pray! You see, if it weren�t for the Lord up above, this Christmas would not have been able to come. But thanks to His children, small angels indeed, we have a Christmas and all that we need. Next time I sit on the couch at night I�ll think of my angel and pray she�s alright. For I will never forget that sometimes the greatest gifts are from small, hidden, unseen angels� and I am glad that I was able to know who was mine. |
 |
 |
 |