Snow Angel

This is a very much inspired by emotional struggles I had at one point in my life. It was the first story I had ever written, yet a story I had rarely shared. With that said, I share this today in hopes to start fresh and new, and hoping all will turn out well.

“When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire”
When there’s no one else to turn to, to believe in, or to be inspired by, you have to look within, believe, and inspire yourself.

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Snow Angel

One winter night,

little Sarah Brooks lay in the snow alongside her mother.

Just in front of them were the prints of the angels they’d created mere moments ago.

Dazzled by the night sky, Sarah stared at the outline of the figures. She spoke softly,

“I don’t like my angel; the shape is ugly,”

Her mother looked at her with curiosity.

“I like yours better.”

Sarah slowly climbed into her mother’s angel, carefully considering the fragile snow. She whispered,
“It’s perfect!”

“Then we’ll make angels every year and I will teach you how to make the perfect angel.”
Sarah looked up with an excitement in her eyes,

“Promise?”

“I Promise.”

Before the year passed, Sarah’s mother became very ill and passed away. Sarah was heartbroken and when the first snowfall came, she cried, refusing to make snow angels with the other children.

“Mom promised she’d make snow angels with me every year and they’d be perfect.”
But one snowy night, as the stars glistened in the sky, Sarah caught a glimpse of something in the snow. It was a snow angel. Curious, Sarah ran out to the front yard, stood by the angel, examined it, and once finished, came back in the house. She complained to her brother, “There’s a foot print in it. It’s not mom’s.”

Winter passed and there was no sign of another angel. The following year brought a fresh new blanket of snow. Again, an angel had appeared on the Brooks’ front yard that night. And again, Sarah came outside, looked at the angel and headed back into the house. Her father looked at her, and saw, as she seemed to lose hope. “The angel is too big, it’s not mom’s.”

Sarah went through the year thinking of the angel and her mother. One winter evening, Sarah glanced outside her bedroom window to find her brother and father quickly making their best attempt at a snow angel. Under that starry night sky, Sarah crept outside, climbed into the angel. There was a footprint in it and it was too big.

“It’s perfect!”

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