An Angel
Sunday, December 23rd, 2007So, with Tammy right behind me, I jumped around the desk, ready to ask this guy if he wanted something warm to drink– really I just wanted to figure out who he was and why he had come into the church. As I trailed along the corner of the hallway, I noticed his wet footprints. A trail from the door and a trail back to the door. The one unlocked door at the entrance was squeaking closed. I ran up to the door to open it, and peeked outside into the blizzard. There were no footprints in the six inch drifts up against the front entrance to the church. The snow was untouched, soft, and glistening.


