Rachel Cooke
(age 14)
The old man
shuffled down the church steps. A swarm of people were pushing through the wide doors, and although he knew he was holding up the flow, he
couldn’t help that his hunched back and painful joints prevented him from
hurrying down the steps like all the rest of the people seemed to want to do.
It was a
mesmerizing night. The moon reflected irridescent beams of light off the
tall stained-glass windows - depicting
Jesus’ miracles for the whole town to see. The stars glittered and sparkled above
his head. Except for the chattering of the people surrounding him, it was
still and quiet in the town.
He stepped down off of the last step just as it
started to snow - delicately and beautifully. Time seemed to stop. As the
snow hung suspended twirling, in the
air, the
crippled old man reflected on previous Christmas Eves. The years when everything
was cheery and delightful and the joy of the whole world seemed to be with him.
This year he was alone.
The nostalgic moment
ended as a young women lightly touched his shoulder and asked, “Do you have any
Christmas Eve plans, Sir?” She smiled, and
her husband came up next to her and said, “We would really like you to
join us for a Christmas Eve dinner and tree decorating.”
The old man didn’t know what to say. Why him? They didn’t even know him. Maybe this was
his Christmas miracle.
“I would like
that.”
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1 comment:
I really enjoyed your story. It was very thoughtfully written. I could picture the beautiful scene in my head!
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