A foggy night in a dark forest full of shadows, stray beams of moonlight formed by trees and clouds strips blockade, shines through the fog; the night is blessed yet menacing.
A shadow passes through the dark fogs with a quickness shaped by fear, running and dodging the weak beams of light, hidden from something; until moonlight strips the quick shadow of its identity, a woman hooded with cloth and fear running; holding onto something, something wrapped in a royal cloth, moving.
At whom is she so frightened? sounds coming from the other side of the forest, footsteps, heavy, yet gentle, what horror lies behind the shroud of the oak trees?
An aura so warm and holy approaches, black silhouette, small strips of the moonlight beam shine across its white armor, each line of light giving off vision, until it comes to a stop, shadows upon his silhouette it takes one more step coming under the moonlight.
The holy presence of an angel, clad in white chromatic armor, standing a tall with wings whiter than the morning snow, a holy presence for he is the strength of a god, searching for the frightened lass.
What is its purpose? What does it long for?
The eyes of the lass bind themselves to the presence of the angel, hidden in the shadows she gets away, coming to a stop at a wooden doorstep, a lonely shack in the middle of the forest.
Fear in her heart and with tearful eyes she questions herself, a decision is made, two tears shall be spilled on this night, on of joy and one of sorrow, which one will it be?
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The woman lives her ragged keepsake at the doorstep, one last look, a look full of love and longing, one last look of uncertainty, she removes her hood revealing the dark black hair, removing the rags, a newborn between, hers, gently caressing the newborn, with a soft kiss onto the child she let go.
Tears in her eyes she, knock on the door as hard as her strength grants her, then onto the forest again, before she can put a single step onto the grass, she is grasped by the neck and plucked from the ground so flowerily, white cladded angel, wind like so swift yet gentle, the eyes of the angle through the helm clashes with the woman’s gaze.
A look of horror and despise, hatred filled eyes of the lass turns once again into the gaze of loving mother, one last look at the wooden shack, a single sentence is repeated while in the chokehold of the angel, with a weak voice, facing the shack “oh I am so sorry, I am sorry”.
The angle moves a single finger, snaping her neck with one hand, a single tear rolls of her lifeless face, the angle roll his head and gazes upon the shack, the door starts to open.
With sound of the door opening the angel opens his white holy wings, with the body of the woman hanging by the neck lifeless in its grasp, it takes off and goes towards the cloud filled starry night.
At the doorstep, gaze of a young woman falls upon a child on her doorstep, so sudden her face expression changes, excitement, happiness, she grabs the child, holding him above her head and looking at him with all the love in the world, until her eyes fall upon something grand, a figure moving through the skies behind the child.
All of sudden her world changes, “I cannot believe this, oh is this your answer to my prayers Holy Iuthes, a child delivered by an angel, oh my blessed little one” she said while growing tears in her eyes and the brightest smile on her lips.
Looking at the angel flying away with the little on under her arm, droplets of happy tear falling from her face gazing upon a stary night.