E. Motketsan Official Web Site

Message from the author

 

Home of the Lucidian ©

E. Motketsan Official Web Site - Home PageE. Motketsan Official Web Site - NovelsE. Motketsan Official Web Site - PurchaseE. Motketsan Official Web Site - EntertainmentE. Motketsan Official Web Site - ProjectsE. Motketsan Official Web Site - ContactE. Motketsan Official Web Site - LiteraryE. Motketsan Official Web Site - MusicE. Motketsan Official Web Site - PhotosE. Motketsan Official Web Site - Thank You

Because fiction authors just do it better!     

E. Motketsan's short story Snow Angels

by author E. Motketsan

Ó Copyright 2002 All rights reserved.


E. Motketsan's short story Snow AngelsDaniel opened the garage door and stood before it, waiting to walk underneath. The snow had stopped falling now, but had dumped almost five inches onto the driveway. He put the shovel's blade to the concrete and began to push the snow down the driveway, making a long path down the center to form two sections. When he got to the bottom, he turned and walked back toward the garage and started to throw the snow into the already towering mountains that stood on either side of the driveway.

With each shovelful he threw, he remembered every Christmas his family spent together. Daniel, his wife Jasmine and their seven-year-old daughter, Maisha always loved the holiday season. Each Christmas they would go out and find the perfect Scottish Pine tree; the biggest one in the lot that would still fit in their living room. Together, Maisha and Daniel would put the lights on the tree and then, Jasmine and Maisha would fill it with ornaments. After they finished with all the decorations, Daniel would lift Maisha bringing her close to the tree so she could place her grandmother’s star on the top.

He stopped shoveling and looked up at the living room window. He could see Maisha and Jasmine in the kitchen baking gingerbread cookies. Maisha’s smile could be seen from across town. Her sweet smile, large brown eyes, and gentle nature made Jasmine and Daniel’s life so much more. Everyone who knew her was touched by her graciousness. She was bright, caring, and never complained about her illness. How blessed they were to have her.

A small smile grew across his face as he pushed the shovel into the snow and threw it over the ever-growing mountain of fresh powder. I will make Maisha a snow angel tomorrow, he thought. She would like that. They could look at it together through the living room window and… He paused for a moment as a tear rolled down his cheek. Leaning his weight on the shovel, he reached his hand up to his face to push it away. "We promised we wouldn’t be sad. Not now, not this Christmas," Daniel said aloud.

He grabbed hold of the shovel and continued to make his way down the driveway. Upon reaching the bottom, he stood up straight, holding the small of his back. He looked out over the white landscape. The tree branches were all covered with snow, sparkling with the reflection of the moonlit sky. It was a beautiful night as he looked up at the countless number of stars. "God, if you could just let it be me instead. Please God, let her stay." Daniel lowered his head and walked back toward the garage where he started to shovel the other side of the driveway.

Why was someone so small and beautiful and full of life burdened with this? Maisha had been diagnosed with Leukemia two years earlier, and though the treatments prolonged her life for a little while, the doctors recently gave her only until March. It was to be their last Christmas together. The pain inside of Daniel was so strong, he could be barely breathe. He felt an emptiness in his soul and he couldn’t help but wonder why it had to be his child, or any child for that matter. Children should be exempt from such pain and misery.

He had almost three-quarters of the driveway shoveled when he stood up once again and looked down the street. He could see a man moving beneath a street light. He wore an old long coat and a brimmed hat. Daniel continued to shovel the rest of the driveway. In between the scrapes of the shovel against the concrete, he could hear the man’s footsteps crunching in the snow. He glanced up and saw him coming closer to the house. His head was down, looking at the street as he walked along the side of the road, the wind blowing his long coat behind him.

Daniel had nearly completed the shoveling when the footsteps had become fairly loud. He looked up to see the man stop at the end of his driveway.

"Merry Christmas," Daniel called out.

The man raised his head to reveal a face from underneath his hat. He was probably in his late thirties and he looked at Daniel with eyes so blue you would swear that the sky was just behind them. He smiled at Daniel and looked up at the living room window.

"I can smell those gingerbread cookies from here," he said.

Daniel stared at him in disbelief. Could he really smell the cookies from all the way out here? He thought to himself.

"Do you live around here?" asked Daniel.

"No, I had a call and came to answer it," the man replied.

Daniel stared at the man. He had a presence about him that was hard to describe. He appeared to be a humble, poor man, but had an inner glow and confidence that seemed to be of royalty.

"Would you like me to help you make the snow angels?" the man asked.

Daniel dropped his shovel on the driveway, and though he found this man to be very odd indeed, he found himself trusting him. He knew somehow that he meant no harm to him.

"I would like that," he replied.

Daniel and the man went into the snow-covered front yard. Lying next to each other, at arms width apart, they began to move their arms and legs making snow angels just below the living room window. Afterwards, they stood up together and moved backwards a few steps. Daniel, admiring the perfect snow angels they had just made, smiled broadly. He looked toward the living room window and saw his wife and daughter taking the gingerbread cookies from the oven.

His eyes moved back to the snow angels again, and he noticed that there were no footprints in the snow. Only the two angels had disrupted the snow covered ground. He turned and faced the man, who tipped his hat and smiled. Daniel looked out at the shoveled driveway. Lying next to the dropped shovel he saw himself!

"You will always be in Maisha’s mind and her heart. She will know the sacrifice you made by the Christmas snow angels," the man said.

"She isn’t going to die?" he asked.

The man looked at Daniel with those tender, blue eyes. "You have saved her, Daniel, with your Christmas wish and your love. Come, take one more look and we will go."

Daniel looked back at the living room window and beamed as he watched his wife and daughter take the gingerbread cookies off the cookie sheet and slide them onto the serving dish. He moved his hand up to his lips and blew them one last kiss. He turned to the man with the brimmed hat and together they walked down the snow covered street.

Every Christmas thereafter, Maisha would wake up to two snow angels just underneath her living room window, and she would remember the night of her father’s last Christmas. The night in which she was miraculously cured.

 


 

This story is provided by the author for your enjoyment. Please help support this artistic venue by purchasing a novel.

 

Get your copy from these fine retailers

E. Motketsan - Wounded Crows don't Fly

Barnes & Noble.com - www.bn.com

Amazon.com

E. Motketsan - While in Pursuit of the Perfect Ballad

Amazon.com

Barnes & Noble.com - www.bn.com

E. Motketsan - Logo

Amazon.com

 

 


E. Motketsan's latest novel Logo

 

E. Motketsan Book Reviews

Sitemap, Contact

© Copyright 2003 - 2010 E. Motketsan and Talk Eddy. All rights reserved. 

No material may be used from this site without prior written consent from author E. Motketsan. 

L10 Web Stats Reporter 3.15 LevelTen Hit Counter - Free Web Counters
LevelTen Web Design Company - Website Development, Flash & Graphic Designers