“I don’t remember, I don’t remember,” Jason repeated wistfully. “I want to remember, but I don’t.”
Seth noticed how Sharon averted her eyes as the children talked about their mother. This was hard for her, he knew, because it was difficult for him to hear his twins talk about their dead mother.
“I got to thinking about what a new mommy would look like,” Judd added, picking up the tale. “So I drew her picture.”
“And Judd’s picture looks like Miss Maxwell,” Jason finished triumphantly.
“That’s wonderful,” Sharon said, but Seth noticed that her voice trembled slightly. She walked over to the other side of the kitchen and picked up the aluminum-covered wings. A silver garland-wrapped halo was attached, rising from the back side of the wings and held into place with a bent hanger. Seth had to give Sharon credit, she’d done a good job.
“Dad.” Jason looked to his father for support, his eyes large and imploring. “You aren’t going to make me wear wings and a halo, are you?”
“Son, the show couldn’t go on without you. Being an angel is an important role.”
“The guys are going to make stupid jokes.” Judd tucked his chin against his chest and pouted. “It’s bad enough that I’ve got to wear a dress.” He spread out the material at the hips, making sure Seth recognized the sacrifice he was already making. “But wings and a halo?”
Seth had to admit that the twins weren’t the ones he would have chosen for the parts, given their bent toward the mischievous, but it was too late to quibble now. The pageant was only a little more than a week away.
“Mrs. Miracle said that not all angels have wings,” Judd added on a near frantic note.
“Really?” Seth didn’t appreciate the housekeeper taking his son’s side in this issue.
“It’s true,” Jason added. “Mrs. Miracle said that some angels look like ordinary people, with regular jobs and everything. Some even come disguised as regular people. God sends them down to earth when He has a special task that needs careful handling.”
“Complicated circum…circumstances and such,” Judd said, sounding very adult for his tender years.
“It seems to me that Mrs. Miracle is a wise woman,” Sharon murmured.
“She cooks real good, too,” Jason said, and then whispered just loudly enough for Seth to hear, “Lots better than Dad. I was worried about what was going to happen to us before Mrs. Miracle arrived. We might have starved.”
As if hearing her name, the housekeeper strolled into the kitchen with a fresh batch of folded towels.
“Isn’t that right, Mrs. Miracle?” Judd asked, all but leaping down from the chair and grabbing hold of the portly woman.
“What?” the housekeeper asked, taken aback by the frontal attack.
“What you said about some angels not wearing wings. My dad says I have to put them on for the Christmas pageant.”
“Well,” she murmured thoughtfully, “while it’s true enough some angels don’t need wings, I wonder how the church audience would know exactly what you were without them. It’s an unfortunate truth that some narrow-minded people wouldn’t recognize an angel without something to flap behind them.”
“They make me look like a girl,” Judd insisted.
“Don’t let the Archangel Michael hear you talk like that,” Mrs. Merkle said with great dignity. “Why, he’s one of the mightiest warriors of heaven.”
“You mean angels can be soldiers, too?”
“The fiercest kind of all.”
“It’s true,” Seth added, wishing he’d thought of that himself.
“Michael carries a sword of truth with him at all times. And from what I understand, he isn’t afraid of using it, either.”
“Then so will I,” Judd said, satisfied. “I’ll be a warrior angel. And if anyone calls me a sissy, they better watch out, ’cause I’ll knock them down with the sword of truth.” He thrust his imaginary weapon forward, leaping down from the chair, prepared to wage battle. Jason’s actions pantomimed his brother’s.
“As I recall the Christmas story, the shepherds guarding their sheep were afraid of the angels,” Sharon reminded him.
“‘Fear not,’” Jason shouted his memorized line, “‘for we come with news of great joy.’”
“‘For unto you this night is born a Savior,’” Judd added, and for good measure growled.