God’s Christmas Angel

God knew things were getting serious the day his Chief Angel put in for early retirement.
One glance took in the matted wing feathers, blood stained gown, a tarnished dullness around the halo. So he signed a travel form for the Celestial Fields at once. “You need a rest,” he said with concern. “You’ve had a tough year dealing with so many wars, famines and earthquakes, not to mention inner city riots. You've done a good job, but it’s worn you out. Take a holiday and don’t worry. Things are never so bad we can’t cope.”
Reassured the weary Angel trailed off to rekindle his heavenly ardour.

**********

Kevin, aged six and three quarters, crossed the fingers of both hands behind his back, closed his eyes tight and held his breath as Miss Mortimer read out the cast list for the Sunday School nativity play.
For the past two years Kevin had been cast as a shepherd, but Mum had given his old brown dressing gown to the jumble so he had no suitable shepherding costume this year. A king wouldn’t be bad, but what he really wanted to be was The Angel. He knew the words already off by heart, and last week on Blue Peter they had shown you how to make a wonderful halo from tinsel and a coat hanger.
“... and Kevin will be The Angel.” Kevin was wishing so hard, he almost missed the magic words when they came. His blue eyes opened wide and his blonde head shot up as he gazed at Miss Mortimer in delight. How he loved her. She had dark curly hair and wore big soft jumpers, and some times she brought her guitar and played it while she sang songs with the children.
As the rehearsal began in a chaos of children’s questions, Kevin made up his mind that he would be the best Angel St Mary’s Sunday School had ever seen.

 

**********


By Christmas Eve the little play was rehearsed, the costumes made and the stable scene set. As Kevin gazed out of the sitting room window after lunch he saw to his delight that just to make everything perfect it was beginning to snow. Flakes tumbled thick and fast out of the heavy grey sky. Mum helped him into his coat and wellingtons so he could go out and explore the silent world of the front garden.
“Wot you doing?’ a plaintive little voice asked through the curly iron of the front gate, and Kevin saw his young neighbour Frankie peering in at him.
“I'm making a snowman,” said Kevin. “Do you want to come and help?”
‘You can’t make a snowman, there isn’t enough snow,” Frankie replied and sniffed loudly through a red, pinched looking little nose. So Kevin abandoned the melting handfuls of snowflakes he was trying unsuccessfully to gather together and sauntered over to face Frankie, climbing up so he could swing on the inside of the iron gate.
“Are you ready for the play tonight?” he asked, but there was no answering flicker of excitement or enthusiasm from his young companion.
“I don’t want to be in the play,” Frankie whined and the pinched face set sulkily. “I hate Christmas,” he added suddenly.
Kevin was shocked and paused his sideways swinging on the gate. “But everybody likes Christmas. It’s the best day of the year. Lots of presents and everybody in a good mood.”
“Mum says she can’t afford to buy me a Robot Transformer. She said I’m getting Lego again.”
Kevin began swinging again from side to side. He knew Frankie and his mother lived alone and they didn’t have much money. He had heard his parents talking about Frankie’s mum, it was the sort of conversation that stopped suddenly when he came into the room. “You’ll get a present from Miss Mortimer after the play,” he said, hoping to cheer his friend up.
“It’s all right for you,” Frankie continued to whine. “You’re the Angel, I’m only a stupid shepherd and I’ve got to wear a horrible brown dressing gown Mum got from the jumble sale. I wish I could be the Angel.”
Kevin was beginning to feel uncomfortable inside, and he was thankful to hear his mother calling him. With a brief “see you later” he raced indoors.
“Mum...”’ he ventured as his mother pulled off his snowy red wellingtons, “…could Frankie and his Mum come to us for Christmas Day, they’re on their own and can't afford a Robot Transformer.”
“What are you talking about,” his mother said hurrying back to the warm confusion of her busy kitchen.
“Can Frankie come to us for Christmas,” Kevin pursued her through the kitchen door.
“Don’t be silly Kevin. I can’t possibly cope with extra visitors. Nanny and Grandad are coming, and Aunty Sandra and all her family. Now mind out of my way I want to get to the oven.”

**********


Kevin arrived early at the church hall. He walked slowly across to his peg, touched the long white gown and gazed at the coat hanger halo. It had been a lot more difficult to make than it had looked on Blue Peter, but in the end Mum had managed to make it stand jauntily above his golden curls. “The best Angel ever,” he whispered to himself.
“You’re early,” said Miss Mortimer, rushing into the room in a flurry of carrier bags and snowflakes. “It’s too soon to get changed, you’ll freeze in that costume.”
“Please Miss Mortimer...” Kevin hesitated, not sure if he had her full attention. “I don’t want to be The Angel.”
Miss Mortimer looked at the little star of her show in surprise. “Don’t be silly Kevin,” she said. “All the best actors get stage fright before their big performance, you’ll be all right when the play begins.”
“I’m not stage frightened,” he said, not even knowing what she meant. “I think Frankie ought to be the Angel.”
Something in the intensity of the little boy captured Miss Mortimer’s full attention at last. “Frankie” she asked in puzzled, amazement. Frankie was the awkward little child with unsightly patches of eczema whom she had managed to hide in the back row of the shepherds. He had none of Kevin’s natural charm, nor his golden curls and wide blue eyes. Besides, all Kevin’s family would be in the audience to see their boy perform. “Why do you think Frankie ought to be the Angel?” she asked.
“He says he doesn’t like Christmas and they can’t afford a Robot Transformer and he’s wearing my old dressing gown from the jumble sale...” the story came pouring out as tears began to roll out of the blue eyes and down the pink cheeks.
“Kevin, you have to be The Angel,” said Miss Mortimer firmly, determined to avert a last minute crisis. “You’ve rehearsed it and everyone is relying on you. Frankie doesn’t know the words or the movements. It’s too late to change it all now. You get into your costume, there’s a good boy, and I’ll see what I can do about Frankie. And don’t worry about his Robot Transformer,” she added in a whisper as another group of children arrived through the door. “... I think Father Christmas might bring it after all.” With an authoritative pat on the back Miss Mortimer directed Kevin towards his costume and hurried away.
The audience applauded enthusiastically as the nativity play drew to a close. The colourful tableau of children clustered around Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus, while above them, standing on a wooden stool, The Angel held his arms out in blessing. From this vantage point Kevin saw Miss Mortimer and Frankie's mother smiling and whispering together. Miss Mortimer was making sure the cheque from the St Mary's Social Fund had arrived in time for Frankie's mum to do some last minute shopping, and whispered that the Mortimer family would be delighted if they could come round and help eat their enormous turkey on Christmas Day. In the back row Frankie secretly wiped his runny nose on the soft sleeve of the brown dressing gown as the children sang
“…'til like stars his children crowned
all in white shall wait around”

**********


God smiled quietly to himself as the pure young voices came drifting up through the dark snowy night. No need to worry, there would never be a shortage of Angels.

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