Enjoy the story and please feel free to substitute ‘Caitlin’ with the name of the little angel in your household!
Caitlin and the Christmas angel
The Christmas tree looked lovely — except for the silly gold star that mum insisted on putting at the top every year.
Caitlin sighed. A proper Christmas tree should have a beautiful Christmas angel on top. Her best friend Nicky’s did. Grandma’s did too, and so did the huge tree in the square outside the town hall.
“Mum, can’t we get an angel for our tree?” she asked as she put the last garland of tinsel onto the tree’s prickly branches.
“Whatever for?” said mum, surprised. “We’ve got a pretty star. It always goes on top. It represents the star of Bethlehem that told the world where Jesus was born.”
“I know, but the Christmas angels told the world about Jesus too,” replied Caitlin.
“You’re right,” smiled mum, “but the star stays.”
So that was that. Caitlin was so busy over the next few days, getting ready for Christmas, that she more or less forgot about the tree. It wasn’t till Christmas Eve that she thought about it again.
Mum was in a panic. She couldn’t find the Christmas pudding she had made months ago. She knew she had put it in a safe place, but she couldn’t remember where.
“We’ll have to make another,” she announced. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find it.”
“Can I help?” asked Caitlin. She loved helping mum bake.
Between them they measured out the ingredients and stirred them all together.
“Remember to make your wish as you stir the pudding,” said mum.
This was Caitlin’s chance! She shut her eyes and without a moment’s hesitation she silently wished for a Christmas angel.
But almost before she knew it, it was bedtime and there was no Christmas angel to be seen. It looked as though her wish was not going to come true.
Full of disappointment she put out a mince pie and glass of milk for Santa and trailed sadly to bed. She didn’t even feel excited about the presents she might get. It didn’t feel like Christmas Eve at all.
She was just dozing off when she heard a tap-tap-tapping at the window.
“Must be the wind,” she muttered sleepily to herself.
But then it came again, only this time a lot louder. It was more of a thud-thud-thudding!
Caitlin sat bolt upright. Could it be Santa at the window? Perhaps he couldn’t get down the chimney?
She hurried to the window and dragged open the curtains. She gasped in astonishment. There, looking cold and tired, was a real, live Christmas Angel!
Caitlin stood staring at her until the angel called through the glass. “Well, are you going to let me in or not?” She sounded a bit cross for an angel, Caitlin thought.
Caitlin leapt into action. She heaved on the catch and slowly swung the window open. In came the angel with a lot of cold air.
“Here I am, one Christmas angel as wished for,” she announced with a flourish.
Caitlin just gaped at her.
“What’s the matter?” snapped the angel.
Caitlin jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” she said. “It’s just that, well, you’re a real angel. I only wanted an angel for the Christmas tree.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that in your wish,” sighed the angel. “Honestly, what a mess. Here I am, I’ve just flown all the way from the North Pole and I’m not wanted.”
“North Pole?” echoed Caitlin. “I thought Christmas angels came from Heaven.”
“Not Christmas pudding Christmas angels,” explained the angel. “We’re Santa’s department.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry about the muddle,” sighed Caitlin. “Will you have to fly all the way back to the North Pole again?”
“No, I’ll get a lift back from Santa when he calls here. I’ll just have to wait until then.” The angel adjusted her halo. “By the way, I’m starving. It really is a very long way from the North Pole. Have you got any food?”
“There’s the mince pie and milk I put out for Santa. Will that do?” asked Caitlin.
“Yum!” said the angel, brightening up at once. “Santa won’t mind if I have them. He’ll get millions of mince pies and glasses of milk tonight, after all!”
Caitlin led the angel to the lounge. The ashes were glowing in the grate and the Christmas tree lights were twinkling daintily. The angel perched on the fireplace and happily munched her way through the mince pie. Then she drained the glass of milk and absentmindedly wiped her mouth on her sleeve. Caitlin tried not to giggle.
“I see why you wanted an angel for the tree,” said the angel, nodding towards the star that sat wonkily and dully at the top of the tree. “It is a bit grim, isn’t it.”
Caitlin nodded in agreement. “Yes, but mum says it’s got sentimental value so I think that means it’s worth a lot. You wouldn’t think so, would you?”
The angel shook her head and she Caitlin stared sadly at the star for a moment or two. Then Caitlin had an idea. “Angel,” she asked shyly, “will you play with me. I’ve got these lovely board games that I never get the chance to play with. Mum’s always too busy, and dad thinks they’re boring. They’re not,” she added quickly, “they’re really fun!”
“Oh, yes please,” said the angel, hopping down from the fireplace at once. She was a lot more cheerful now that she’d had a rest and some supper. “I love playing games. I’m brilliant at picture lotto and dominoes. I always beat Santa. Let’s see what games you’ve got.”
They hurried back to the bedroom and Caitlin lifted down some games from the shelf. Then she and the angel settled down on the floor and opened the first box.
Caitlin didn’t know how long they played for, but they got through all her games. They did some jigsaws too and listened to some story tapes. The angel wanted to read books next, but Caitlin’s eyes kept closing.
“Oh dear, I’m going to have to go to bed,” she yawned. “Thanks for a really great time, Christmas angel. And I really don’t mind about you being real, I mean, I’m glad you are. You’re much nicer than a pretend angel. Thank you for coming.”
“That’s OK,” smiled the angel. “I’m very glad I came. Now, quickly, off to sleep before Santa comes. I’ll tidy up.”
That was the last thing Caitlin heard. Or did she hear a deep, booming chuckle a bit later the night — the happiest chuckle ever? And was she dreaming, or did she catch a glimpse of a large, round face surrounded by lots of whiskers peering round the bedroom door? And did she hear the angel saying goodbye to her and wishing her a wonderful Christmas?
Caitlin couldn’t be sure. But when she awoke next morning, she knew at once that she hadn’t imagined the angel. A few of the games were still on the floor. And Santa had been — there was a big sack of presents at the foot of her bed.
Caitlin dragged the sack into the lounge where she could hear mum and dad chatting.
“Morning!” she called happily. “Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas!” said mum, and dad gave her a big hug.
“Look,” he said. “There’s an extra present for you under the tree.”
Caitlin rushed over. The label on the present said “To Caitlin.”
“Who’s it from?” she wondered. The paper on the parcel was the loveliest she’d ever seen. It had pictures of tiny reindeer all over it. Caitlin carefully unwrapped it, and gave a cry of delight. Here was her Christmas angel at last! And it was a beautiful angel. It looked very much like her visitor from last night.
Dad and mum looked very surprised. Then mum said: “We’d better get dad to put that lovely angel on top of the tree. I have to admit, it’s a lot prettier than my poor old star!”
“Thanks mum,” said Caitlin. “And thanks Santa and the Christmas angel,” she added under her breath.
She watched as dad stood on a chair and put the angel — her angel — at the very top of the tree. She smiled happily.
The angel smiled too.