Hello, everyone! It's me, with a new story! "The Reason: A Christmas Story" was written last year. Its beginnings were inspired by the song "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and the image it put into my mind. However, it quickly grew beyond that one scene and into the story I'm posting now. So, without further ado, part one of "The Reason".
Angel rubbed her bare, white feet, trying to get some warmth into them. However, her effort was in vain. The cold air and snow surrounding her thwarted any attempts at warmth. Sighing, the diminutive figure began to work her feet into too-small shoes. She stood and pulled a ragged, grey shawl over her head. Then she picked up a basket from the ground beside her. Angel’s stomach growled in hunger, and she frowned. I wish I had a bit of food. Maybe turkey or ham, and potatoes, and- Angel shook her head, dispelling her dreams of feasts. “None of that, Angel. It’ll only make things worse!” she muttered. An orphan alone in a huge city, Angel often had to beg to get her daily bread, and even though this city seemed to be fairly generous, and the citizens often gave coins instead of just food, there was never enough. Because of this, Angel was extremely small for her age. Now, Yuletide, a celebration to honor the Prince of Peace and a time of great feasting and giving of gifts, was here, and Angel felt the hunger all the more acutely.
Angel walked silently through the street. Strains of music caught her ear, and she stopped, hoping for a bit of cheer. However, the bright tune only made her more upset. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” sang the musician.
Angel frowned. How can you say that? You have no idea of how “wonderful” life is for me. No food, never-ending cold, and no home! What’s the point of Yuletide anyway? It only makes people like me more miserable. She quickly moved on, until she reached the area where the rich folk lived. She turned toward the door of the first grand house, mentally rehearsing her song, her plea for help, with every step. Angel had long ago learned that at Yuletide, the best way to get food or money was to sing carols and look pitiful as she did it. As she lifted her hand, Angel assumed her best “pitiful child” look, a task that was hard to master even with her ragged attire. There was a certain hardness about Angel that was difficult to disguise, and she looked more like a fifteen-year old than her real age. She knocked on the door, and a few minutes later, a tall gentleman opened it. Angle hid a smile. What luck! The master of the house was obviously having a party, which meant he answered the door himself. She extended her basket with a trembling hand and began to sing.
“The Great King rest you merry gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For the Prince of Peace our Savior
Was born upon this day,
To save us from the Dark Lord’s power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy!
O tidings of comfort and joy!”
As Angel continued her song, her grey-green eyes stared pleadingly from her gaunt face. Her shawl slipped down, revealing wavy, golden locks. By the end of the song, there was hardly a dry eye among the gentlemen who had gathered. Each one dropped a coin or two into Angel’s basket before bidding her a good day and shutting the door in her face. Angel allowed herself a small smile as she transferred the coins into an old leather purse. “Maybe there’ll be food tonight!” she whispered. “At least Yuletide isn’t all bad. People are a little more generous.”
What will happen to Angel? You'll have to wait until next time to find out. In the meantime, please comment! I'd love to hear what you think. Thanks for reading!