Whispers.
Angel leans low to brush her lips against the reindeer’s soft, brown ear. His eyes twinkle at her secret and the bells on his harness ring sweetly as he dashes through the greenery to the snowman on a lower bough. The snowman’s frosted whiskers twitch and he passes on the words to the shy white rabbit sitting next to him. Rabbit says nothing, for she only speaks when no one is listening, and there are too many who might hear her tonight. As Angel’s words spread, the commotion builds. A clumsy elf knocks into a candy cane, sending it spiraling to the floor.
All the conversation stops suddenly at the crash. Rabbit pulls her fuzzy ears back against her head, and the reindeer holds his breath. Has anyone heard? The elf grimaces sheepishly, but the sleeping house seems undisturbed.
Angel smiles. She is not worried, for the candy cane will only become the first of many treats on the morrow. She nods to the red bird, who flaps his wings.
The buzz of excitements starts up again, and the glow of the party is revived. Snow White straightens a golden bow on its branch, and a dew drop quivers in delight.
The clock strikes eleven, and Little Ballerina yawns, stretching her glass arms.
One by one they drop off to sleep, smiling sweetly, even in their dreams.
Reindeer bids Angel goodnight, and closes his eyes.
Angel does not sleep. She watches the clock, and the housecat in his bed of pillows. The night is growing darker, but the lights of the Christmas Village keep Angel company, and soon it will be midnight.
She sighs, stretching her wings upward, until they almost reach the ceiling.
She remembers last Christmas, and all the other nights she’s spent perched above the world, waiting, waiting, whispering to the others of the coming Christmas morn.
The snow falls gently outside, in a world little Angel has never known. But even that world, so great and wide, is waiting on this night. For tomorrow brings a brighter sun, and a far, far brighter light.
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