FTS The snow angel Dec 4

A new Finish the story from Teresa of The Haunted Wordsmith ;

Rules–

1. Copy the story as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)

2. Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose

3. Be sure to pingback or comment on the original post please. Please use the tag THWFTS.

4. Tag only 1 person to continue the story

5. Have fun!

Teresa’s part;

Harriet loved the Christmas season. Everything went up Thanksgiving evening and didn’t come down until New Year’s Eve. People could see her Christmas tree from the other end of the block.

This year, Harriet’s theme was the snow angel. Her tree was flocked with white, glistening snow and decorated with cherubs and angels of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Tiny angels surrounded snowmen on the mantle and Santa even had a young angel girl riding in the sleigh with him, while Mrs. Claus entertained a Snow Angel Brownie troop back at the North Pole.

Her house was filled with Christmas music and everywhere she looked, there was joy. Everywhere except in her heart. No one knew how lonely Harriet was and how much she longed for company. Oh, neighbors would stop at the door when caroling and families would wave as they walked past, but none came to visit.

Two weeks before Christmas a snowstorm struck the town and left behind nearly a foot of snow. Mr. Chen and Mr. Howard were kind enough to snowplow the neighborhood’s sidewalk. They salted the main walk and all the way up to Harriet’s door.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said as they tossed a final handful of salt on her porch. “Would you like to come in for hot chocolate?”

The two men smiled and made their apologies for not having time, and went on their way. Harriet understood, but was saddened just the same. She closed her front door and went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup. While looking out the back window, she gasped.

“Well, I wonder who made that,” she said. “It’s a perfect snow angel.”

She looked around for footprints, but there were none. Just a perfect little angel in the snow.

Tale from the mind of Kristian’s part;

Then as she stood there in her pink woollen cardigan, with her slippers slowly getting wet from the melting snow, Harriet, gazed up and saw something amazing, something magical.

As Angel hovered in the sky, just by her old Oak tree, flapping its white’s wings. He was a male angel, who looked quite old and had a lopsided golden halo over his bald head.

“Oh, Excuse me. I do apologise for making an impression in the snow. I’ve not had these wings for very long and I jumped out of your tree, but didn’t get the hang of them in time, so I landed face down in your garden. I am sorry. I’m just so clumsy, I fumble all the time.”

Slightly bewildered, Harriet gaped open-mouthed and just managed to mumble “That’s quite alright”.

“My Names Clarence. What’s yours?” he flew down towards her and held out his hand then awkwardly nearly knocked her over.

“I’m Harriet,” she said as she shook his hand. It was warm and he had a nice friendly smile, so she decided to be hospitable. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” she offered.

“Well, that’s very kind of you. Yes, I would, very much. I haven’t had a good cup of tea in simply ages.”

As she put the kettle on, she heard banging coming from the living room. He certainly was a very clumsy Angel.

Clarence had knocked over her easel and there was paint all over the floor. He picked up her latest picture, it was a painting of the local park, with the ducks on the pond and some children playing with a toy boat.

“Did you paint this?” Clarence asked.

“Yes, yes I did. Do you like it?” Harriet was so pleased. She had learned to paint at college and had always enjoyed it, but no one had ever come in for long enough for her to show her paintings to. They were mostly of the local area, they usually had children in them.

“I think it is a masterpiece,” Clarence said, “I think you need to share this with other people. In fact, I’ve made up my mind, I am going to……”

Part three; ( My contribution)

“Plan an exhibition of your paintings. We will get the local art gallery to arrange it and all the town people will see it. They will realize how talented you are”

Harriet was very flattered by the praise from Clarence. But she didn’t think that she could afford the cost of holding the exhibition. And who would she invite? She had no friends in the area. Clarence overruled all her objections and assured her that every thing will be taken care of.

He departed after have a cup of tea in Harriet’s kitchen. They had a lovely chat over tea, with Harriet sharing a lot of her feelings of loneliness and isolation with the angle.

The next day, there was a knock on her door. She had been busy with cleaning up the mess made by Clarence yesterday. She wasn’t expecting anyone and was surprised at the knock. When she opened the door, a middle-aged man was at her doorstep. ” Are you Harriet” he asked. When she told that she was, he asked her about her paintings. ” What do you want to know?” She asked. She still hadn’t connected this visit with the occurrence of yesterday. ” I am Roberts, from the art gallery at the city center. You were referred to us by one of our clients ” he said. ” I wanted to see how many paintings you want exhibited and which date is convenient for you. We have a surprise open slot for this coming Saturday” Harriet was feeling quite overwhelmed by all this but she took her visitor inside and showed him her paintings. They were all in her den, laying haphazardly on every available space. Mr Roberts was …….