ANN'S ANGEL

by

CQB

EPILOGUE

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

EPILOGUE

Three years later…  

“Are they ready Aunt G?” Seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy asked, knocking on his aunt’s bedroom door.  

“Come on in,” Gertrude Hardy called out from inside.  Joe opened the door and walked into the bedroom, piled high with cardboard boxes.  

“How many did you make this year?” Frank Hardy asked, following his brother into the room.  

“Close to two hundred,” the tall, angular woman proclaimed.  

The boys quickly began hauling the boxes out to their black customized van.  It took three trips, but soon the back of the van was piled high with the boxes.  

Frank climbed in the driver’s seat and buckled his seatbelt.  Joe crawled in the back between the boxes and Gertrude was in the front passenger seat.  

“First stop, Bayport Hospital ,” Frank called out, starting the van and backing out of the driveway.  

The boys delivered all the boxes, just as their father had done for several years.  Each box was left anonymously, but each angel had a small white card attached – it simply read, “From Ann”.  

“One box left,” Joe announced as they left MacIntyre Memorial Home for physically challenged children.  

“It’s for the new shelter in Rye ,” Gertrude announced.  “I heard about it over the summer.  They offer temporary housing to women and children who have been widowed or orphaned suddenly and have no where to go.”  

The boys agreed with their aunt.  Those children could certainly use a Christmas angel to brighten their lives.  

When they arrived, Joe grabbed the last box as Frank rang the doorbell on the old Victorian house. The plaque near the door read, “Haven of Hope”.  

A woman answered the door.  “May I help you?”  

“We have a package here from Santa Claus,” Frank announced with a smile.  

The woman was still wary.  Frank reached into the box Joe was holding and brought out one of the dolls.  

“Oh my!” she cried pushing the door open for the boys to come in.  “I can’t believe it! I’ve seen this doll before!” She reached out and took the doll from Frank’s hand.  

“Annie!  Annie, come here!”  

Joe put down the box and stood beside Frank.  A girl, about fourteen years old with striking red hair came into the room.  

“Look,” the older woman cried, showing the angel doll to the girl.  Annie’s eyes grew wide and she suddenly ran out of the room.  

“Please, sit down,” the woman instructed.  “I’m sure she’ll be right back.”   

The girl came running back into the room, holding a very old, very tattered angel doll.  She showed it to the boys.  

“This was my mother’s,” Annie said softly.  “She died in the hospital last month of cancer, so I’m staying here until my Dad gets home from Germany ; he’s in the Air Force.  Momma named me Ann because of the card that came with the doll.  It said, “Ann’s Angel”.”  

“Where did your mom get the angel?” Frank asked, feeling the hair rise on the back of his neck.  

“She told me she got it on Christmas Eve when she was just a very little girl,” Annie explained.  “She had been in a terrible car accident that had killed her parents and hurt her very badly.  

“On Christmas Eve, a teenage girl she didn’t even know stopped by her room and gave her the angel doll.  Momma said the doll gave her hope.”  

Joe felt his throat tighten.  He swallowed and held out an angel doll to Annie.  “I think your Momma’s doll needs company."  

Annie reached for the doll, tears spilling from her bright green eyes.  She hugged both dolls close to her.  

She looked up at the Hardy brothers.  “If you ever see Ann, will you tell her thank you for me?”  

“Sure,” Joe said.  “We’ll be glad…”  

“Wait,” Frank interrupted.  He quickly pulled out his cellular phone.  Opening the device, he looked at Annie.  “May I take a picture of you with both dolls?”  

Annie nodded and carefully posed.  

As the boys walked out of the house, Frank looked up in the clear, starry night sky.  He glanced over at Joe.  “I feel like I’ve just been part of a Christmas miracle.”  

Joe smiled, knowing exactly how his brother felt.  “It’s not over yet, Bro.  We get to tell the story to Aunt G and show her the picture you took of Annie.”  

Not wanting to wait another minute, the boys raced back to the van, where Gertrude Hardy was waiting.  

The End

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