Snark & Sensibility

PLEASE WELCOME

T.E. BRADFORD

TO

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY

(An original short story)

‘No, no, no. This isn’t right at all.” Lupo tossed his hands in the air. “What are these supposed to be?”

Every set of eyes in the classroom turned to their illustrious teacher.

Lupo held a snowflake up by one delicate branch. “Half the dendrite clusters are twisted.” He let the flake drop and grabbed another. “And this one has too many sparkles.”

The angel children giggled.

“I like the sparkly ones,” a boy in the back said, swatting at a crooked wing.

“Me too ...”

A chorus of agreement rose up.

Lupo grabbed two fistfuls of his golden hair and yanked, eyes squeezed shut. “Aaaagh!”

This only made his little angels laugh harder.

Lupo took a deep breath and smoothed his hair, gave his wings a shake, and let out a long sigh. “Let us try again. And this time, please use your templates. Snowflakes should be beautiful, and to be beautiful, they must be perfect.”

“Yes, Master Lupo,” the children replied in unison.

As the children went back to work Lupo sank into his chair. He loved making snowflakes. Truly he did. They were a wondrous and lovely bit of creation. But why King Jesus had assigned the angel children to design them he would never understand. Children were messy and careless, and … and silly! Such fine pieces of art as snowflakes should be designated to the best artists in Heaven. Michelangelo, or Rembrandt (although perhaps not that Picasso fellow).

When the golden bells chimed, the angel children jumped up to run to the throne for midday worship. Lupo breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced at the tables scattered with sparkles and crystal formations, shook his head, and left to join the others. Lupo wasn’t the greatest singer, but music soothed him.

The crowd at the throne already grew thick, all of Heaven clustering to be closest to their Lord and King. Light shone from the center of the throng. Somewhere up there, the angel children surely clambered all about. King Jesus loved everyone but had an obvious soft spot for the little ones.

The first strains of song lifted.

Holy, Holy Father

King of everything

To You, Lord of wonder

We lift our voice and sing

Praise be to God

Our Lord on high, Defender

Mighty Prince of Peace

Our love we give forever!

Lupo couldn’t help but join in, the words sweet on his lips as he praised his maker. All of his worries slipped away, forgotten.

By the time the worship finally ended, the day had passed to evening—a frequent occurrence when the King’s people gathered together. Nothing in all the universe was as important as worshipping their mighty Lord.

Lupo headed back for his workshop. The children would be headed home to eat fruits from the Tree of Life with family and friends, which left Lupo some time to clean up and prepare for tomorrow.

When he drew close, he saw the lights were on.

When he’d left, the midday sun still shone brightly. Who could have turned on the lights? Was one of the angel children inside?

Lupo peeked in, curious.

All of the seats were empty. So then who …?

“Ah, here’s a most special one!” A familiar voice chimed.

Lupo laid a hand on the edge of the work table, bent at the waist, and peered below. “Merry?”

There, beneath the work table, a most diminutive form sat. In his lap sat all the broken, unfit, undesirable snowflakes. Sparkles covered the pint-sized angel from head to toe. “Oh, hello Lupo.” Merry smiled.

“What are you doing under there?”

Merry blinked. “Making the Christmas snow, of course.”

Lupo jerked, standing so quickly he hit his head on the table. “Ouch!”

Merry peeked up at him. “Are you all right, Lupo?”

Lupo rubbed at his head. “You’re making the snow to celebrate the Holy Birth with those?”

Merry looked down at the snowflakes in his hands with a confused frown. “Of course.” He looked back up. “Why?”

“But… but they’re mistakes. Flawed. Imperfect!”

Photo by Darius Cotoi on Unsplash
 

Merry grinned. “Yes, I know.”

Lupo’s mouth gaped.

“That’s what makes them so special.”

Lupo could only stare, speechless. How could these damaged, defective snowflakes be special?

Merry held one up. “You see how the limbs of this one are all bent?”

Of course, Lupo could see. The crystalline structure was warped and turned almost inside out. Merry set the snowflake against his palm and gave a sharp twist. The flake spun in his open hand, sparkles flashing as they caught the light, sending prisms of color dancing about the room. Lupo stared at the radiant rainbows in wonder.

“The spirals make the colors dance.” Merry held up another one. Lupo recognized the heavy coating of sparkles. The flake caught the light and began to glow, shining so bright the entire room blazed silver. “The extra reflection makes this one shine brighter than the others.”

Lupo couldn’t say a word. He could hardly believe his eyes. All of these misshapen, ugly snowflakes had somehow been made beautiful. “And you… you make the… Christmas snow … from these?”

Merry crawled out from under the table, laying a hand on Lupo’s arm. Sparkles flittered to the floor all around him. “The Lord does not look at the things we look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” Merry quoted the book of Samuel. “He has made everything beautiful in its time.”

“Ecclesiastes book three, verse eleven,” Lupo whispered.

Merry winked. “Our imperfections serve to show His perfection.” He patted Lupo’s arm and headed for the door.

“Merry?”

The small angel stopped and looked back.

“Do you think my imperfections …?”

Merry’s brows lifted. “Honor King Jesus?” A smile as bright as the Star of Bethlehem lit Merry’s face. “Of course they do, Lupo. He made you just the way you are.”

And with that, Merry slipped out, Christmas snow in hand.

ABOUT T.E. BRADFORD

Tracy is the author of several stories, screenplays, songs, poems, and even musicals. When she’s not busy writing, she can be found taking a scenic drive with her family, snapping photos, or giving voices to her son’s stuffed animals. She reclines her feet in Upstate New York with her very own grumpy kitty, the husband God made just for her, and the son who is her forever best story.

You can learn more about Tracy at https://www.amazon.com/author/tebradford

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