Sorry for the long absences, but I don't see it changing any time soon. I'm back at home now and never seem to get around to the old blogging scene, lots of other stuff happening though. Thanks to hebburndelboy for the birthday wishes - I didn't see the message until today, but I really appreciate the thoughts. Anyway, thought it had been quite long enough so here's another short story to keep anyone who's still out there going until I can post again. I hope you're all well, and keeping safe :-).

Wings of an Angel

There was once a little boy walking along a forest path. This boy, no more than six years old, happened upon a rather wondrous treasure on that forest path. He found a pair of wings; such delicate feathers of pale blue were these wings that the young boy could not leave them on the unforgiving forest floor, so he took them gently under his childishly innocent protection. He walked on thinking that perhaps someone had dropped them and that he might be able to return them. They were such wonderful little wings that he thought whoever had lost them would be missing them terribly, and it made him sad.

In time the boy saw another person on the same path as he. There was an old man sitting on the dirt of the ground, and the old man was crying quietly to himself. Filled with nothing but genuine concern the boy hurried forward to the old man talking as he approached. ‘Please, sir, don’t cry. Here,’ the boy held out his precious find. ‘I’ve found your wings.’

The old man looked up at the little boy and his teary expression faded, replaced with a soft smile. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ said the old man. ‘But they aren’t mine. I didn’t lose any wings.’

‘Oh,’ the boy brought the wings back to his chest. ‘I thought you lost them and it made you sad.’ After a slight pause the boy’s large blue eyes focussed on the old man again. ‘I don’t know whose they are. Can you help me?’

The old man was pleased to be able to help such a nice little boy. ‘Yes,’ the old man said, smiling even more. ‘Of course.’ So the old man stood up, brushing soil from his clothes, and took the little boy’s hand as they continued along the forest path.

The two of them were quiet as they continued hand in hand under the trees until the sound of a baby’s cry broke through the resting air. The little boy and the old man both hurried forward to discover a cradle in the middle of the path. Looking inside, the little boy saw a wriggling figure of a baby. Its face was scrunched up and its fists were balled and its tiny mouth was putting forth its worried little cries.

‘Oh,’ the little boy looked up to the old man. ‘Do you think he’s lost his wings? Is that why he’s crying?’

The old man couldn’t help but smile again. ‘No little one, I don’t think so.’ He ran a finger against the soft feathers held in the little boy’s grip. ‘The wings are small, but they aren’t small enough to be a baby’s wings.’

Considering this for a moment and looking between the baby and the wings, the little boy realised the old man was right. The wings were just a bit too big for the baby. ‘What should we do then?’ he asked.

‘I think it might be best if we kept going,’ the old man said as he picked up the cradle with one hand and took up the little boy’s hand with his other. ‘We’ll take this little munchkin with us and see if we can’t find its mummy, and we can keep looking for the one who’s lost his wings. How does that sound?’

The little boy smiled and nodded at the kind old man. The tiny baby was rocked by the gentle pace of their walking and fell asleep in its cradle; the quiet rustle of leaves settled around them.

Some time later the little boy heard yet more crying and compassion stirred again in his heart. He let go of the kind old man’s hand and ran forward towards the sound. Around the next corner he saw a young girl sitting at the edge of the path; she had her forehead to her knees and was crying into her hands. As he got closer to the young girl she looked up at him.

‘Please don’t be sad,’ he said. ‘Did you lose your wings?’ He held them out to her. ‘I found them for you.’

The young girl wiped her face and stood up, and the old man walked around the corner with the tiny baby. She held out her hands and the little boy gave her the wings. She smiled through her tears. ‘They are beautiful,’ she said looking at them and touching them in wonder. ‘But they’re not mine.’ She handed them back to the little boy. He looked down at them feeling sad again, but the young girl made him feel better by offering her help. ‘Would you like me to help you find the right person?’

‘Oh please,’ the little boy said. ‘Somebody’s lost their wings and I don’t know who it is.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she replied taking his hand and dabbing once more at her eyes. ‘We’ll find them.’

And so, together, all holding hands, they continued down the forest path in search of the angel with no wings.

Eventually the little boy’s search led them to a large meetinghouse. They went inside and found a kindly lady who was willing to help each of them find their way back to where they should be, but before they went their separate ways the old man took the kindly lady aside.

‘You see our little boy there,’ he motioned across the room. ‘Well, he found some wings in the forest and he would like to return them to the owner. Do you know who they belong to?’

The kindly lady smiled at the old man knowingly. ‘I see this little boy quite often,’ she said, looking at the little boy fondly. ‘He’s a guiding angel,’ she explained. ‘He finds lost travellers on the road and guides them here for safety. The wings are his wings.’

The old man’s heart warmed in his chest as he looked over to his little friend… his guiding angel. ‘Oh,’ he said gently. ‘And will he know they’re his wings now?’

‘If you give them to him, he’ll know,’ answered the kindly lady with a smile.

So the old man walked over to the little boy and asked to hold the wings. The little boy handed them over with overwhelming trust in his eyes, and the old man offered them back to him. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, as if they had just met. ‘Are these your missing wings?’

‘Oh yes!’ the little boy exclaimed taking the wings carefully. ‘Thank you, mister. Where did you find them?’

The old man smiled at the little boy with tears forming in his eyes. ‘A little angel gave them to me,’ he said. ‘For safe keeping.’