ANGEL WINGS

 ANGEL WINGS

At the cry of a newborn the villagers rejoiced – a new life was always worth celebrating, but on Christmas Eve it was a double blessing. They clustered round as his father held him up.  

“What will you call him?” a woman asked.

“Jesús, naturally,” Josef answered.

An hour later a dog barked and was instantly silenced, but it had been tied up deliberately far from the village and had done its job before it died.

Josef woke his children with his hand over their mouths. “Run and hide in the caves,” he ordered and they slid silently away, Maria close behind them carrying her new baby.

 The villagers cowered deep in the caves while rebels burned everything, rampaging through the forest, killing anything that moved with their machetes. Maria’s children clung to her skirts in silent terror, but Jesús felt the tension in her arms and whimpered.

The rebel leader stopped, looking all around, and the villagers watched in horror as Maria, with tears pouring down her face, held her hand over her baby’s mouth.

 Long minutes later the lookout reported, “They have gone,” but the cave remained silent as the villagers gathered round Maria, and the baby who lay limp and lifeless in her arms.

 Then the air moved as if wafted by angel wings, the tiny chest heaved, and Jesús looked up into Maria’s face, born a second time.

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Christmas Eve, and the penultimate little story in My Advent Week calendar. I'm off now to meet my daughter and granddaughter at church for the Crib Service - fully masked, lateral flow tests negative!

Please let me know if you've enjoyed my stories, and I wish you all a very happy Christmas.