Copyright is held by the author.
THE LITTLE angel, too big at first glance to have to be lifted, guided, helped, was carried up the porch steps to my front door by the mother. Then I saw why she’d had to be helped.
She had an open, receiving, trusting, face. I offered her a candy. She crowed with delight, setting her mesh wings atremble with excitement. “She’s non-verbal,” offered the mother.
I held out three candies, cupped in my palm. The mother guided the angel’s tiny hand to mine to help her pick them up. She touched each candy, hissing and squeaking with pleasure.
“Happy Halloween, sweetie,” I whispered.
She signed, “Thank you.”
I placed my hand over my heart to say, “You’re welcome.”