The Christmas Angel
“Sitting at her small table, her papers and letters in neat piles, she is finding it difficult to concentrate her mind. She is not yet accustomed to the view and she is secretly shocked by her lack of discipline and by the frequency with which she gets up from the table simply to stare out across the grounds to the cliffs and the sea. Hitherto, their ground-floor rooms looked into the kitchen garden and there was little temptation to stand dreaming. Now, the huge expanse of sea and sky draws her... back again and again to gaze out on the constantly shifting light. Light: the word occurs so often in the scriptures, and even now she is writing to a woman whose son is struggling against the darkness of drugs and addiction and fear.
Instinctively, Sister Emily puts down her pen and goes again to the window for inspiration. The sun is already setting, balanced at the sea’s rim, splashing the choppy surface with gold and crimson fire. As it sinks, the fleecy clouds glow briefly, rose pink and creamy yellow, and then fade as the shadows grow more dense.MoreLess
Instinctively, Sister Emily puts down her pen and goes again to the window for inspiration. The sun is already setting, balanced at the sea’s rim, splashing the choppy surface with gold and crimson fire. As it sinks, the fleecy clouds glow briefly, rose pink and creamy yellow, and then fade as the shadows grow more dense.MoreLess
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