2013. december 22., vasárnap

The Tale of the Christmas Angel and the Moon



For all my friends who complain about not being able to read my tales and articles written in Hungarian, here is my Christmas gift, with 
LOVE

The Tale of the Christmas Angel and the Moon

There are many kinds of angels, but the most beloved of all, the angel most expected by everyone is, perhaps, the Christmas Angel. Despite any misery and despair, despite any distress ravaging peace and prosperity on Earth, the Christmas Angel comes and brings gifts to people...
This was known to the angels, and known to people, too. Everyone did their job. In Advent the angel walked around on the Earth preparing for the Christmas Eve gift-giving. And people started to do their outer and inner cleaning. But this time, in the year this story tells you about, something went differently. The Christmas Angel was just sitting on the sickle of the Moon, looking at the Earth broodingly. Two vertical wrinkles appeared on its forehead, what is very rare among angels. The Moon could not stand this idle, leg-swinging musing, it said: Christmas Angel, at the coming of Advent you used to fly around merrily before, the whole heavenly world was loud with your joy, and now you are just squatting here and looking so worried as if you’d swallowed stones and weren't able to digest them.
Do you think I could try not going down to the people of the Earth this year?” turned the angel inquiringly to the Moon. The Moon almost tumbled over in astonishment. It held itself back only because otherwise it would have spilled the delicate star dew it had so strenuously gathered in its lapcup, and, as is well-known, star dew is the most delicious drink in the whole world.
You can’t do that!” answered the Moon stuttering, “It is your job to give out all those Christmas gifts. If you fail to do it, the angels of consolation will need to do hundreds of years of extra work to comfort all those disappointed, desperate little children.
That's true,” the angel replied gloomily, I just cannot do it to them, can I?”
But why don’t you want to go this year?” asked the Moon pryingly.
Because people have become accustomed to my coming every year, and there is no gratitude in people's hearts anymore. They think they deserve it, they think this has been like this till now, so it will always remain this way. They don’t believe in the miracle anymore, only in the established habit. Before, all the children believed in me, but now it is only the smallest who still have faith. The parents, they are absolutely hopeless. They buy all those Christmas presents so as they wouldn’t remain in shame if I didn’t come, and their children would not be disappointed. Often they have no patience to wait for the miracle of the Christmas angel. They quickly pile their rinky-dink gifts in fancy packages under the Christmas tree, and completely forget about my presents, the real ones: the smiles, the caring, gentleness and tenderness.
Is that why your wings are so colourless and ragged?” asked the Moon, with worry in its voice.
“Yes. The fewer people believe in miracles, the weaker and sadder I become”.
Look!” pointed the angel towards the Earth, from where small letters, like flocks of little birds, were flying towards the sky. “The children have started to write their letters to me. Can you see those gray-brown ones?”
“Yes, I can,” answered the Moon and bulged its left eye out to see, since the other one was looking in the opposite direction.
They are written by those children who don’t believe in miracles. They used to believe once, but then their parents put it out of their heads with all those toys. They have nothing else but pretensions now, and their letters look like shopping lists.”
Suddenly, the Moon cried out in excitement:
Look at that!” 

The Christmas Angel glanced in that direction. A string of letters of unusual brightness was spiraling up. The angel reached out and caught its end, then read it aloud:
Please, do come this year, too. I don’t know whether I may ask such a thing, but I'll try. Please, bring some of that kind of faith that says miracles are still possible.
The angel and the Moon looked at each other in surprise.
Who wrote it?” asked the Moon.
“It’s not signed, it could be written by anyone.”
And can you fulfill this wish?” the Moon insisted, with a bit of concern in his voice.
I don’t know,” answered the Christmas Angel with a smile, but I'll try. They say that as long as there is at least one person on the Earth who believes in miracles, miracles can happen. And then I can fulfill this wish, too.”
But the Moon could make out only the echo of these last words. The Christmas angel flew off towards the Earth on its strong, shiny, silvery-white wings suddenly grown to gigantic sizes. Those wings were now glittering with the millions of miracles hidden among the fluffs and feathers.
(Illustrated by Sára Bak)

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