The Christmas Angel’s Secret (short story)

Snow drifted gently over Pineberry as Harper Lane trudged home, feeling lonelier than ever. Christmas was close, but her best friend had moved away, and her dad was always working.

She paused in the town square and looked up at the old wooden angel on the church steeple. For a moment, she thought she saw it glow.

“I wish I had someone to talk to,” she whispered.

That night, tapping sounded on her window. When she opened it, a tiny, glowing wooden figure hovered outside.

“I am Seraphina,” the angel said softly. “You called for help.”

Harper listened as Seraphina told her she had watched over the town for more than a century, only waking when someone truly needed comfort. Soon the two became close friends, but one evening Harper noticed a crack spreading across Seraphina’s wing.

“Every time I use my magic, I weaken,” Seraphina admitted. “I must return to the steeple on Christmas morning… or I may never awaken again.”

Heartbroken but determined, Harper gathered the townspeople. Though they could not see the angel’s spirit, they saw the worn wooden carving and joined together to repair and restore it.

They painted her wings, fixed her cracks, and decorated the steeple with lights and garland.

Harper tied a golden ribbon around the wing Seraphina had cracked.

As the village sang on Christmas Eve, the angel’s eyes glimmered faintly from high above.

“My secret,” Seraphina whispered on the wind, “is that I am not the miracle. You are, whenever you show kindness.”

Harper smiled, no longer lonely. The magic lived on inside her.