The Angel

The Angel

The angel that sits atop our tree
I had never thought of much, you see,
Until this morning my daughter I found
Gazing up at the angel looking down.

"Pretty angel," and I nodded yes
Toward the china face and the snow-white dress,
And the angel was lovely to my surprise
When looking at her through my child's eyes.

It was just an ornament bought years before
Found on clearance at a discount store.
I knew the history, but it would've been tragic
To dispel her believe in the ornament's magic.

She still watched the figure with such open love,
That she made me look, too, at the angel above.
And it did seem today there was something more
Which I'd never seen in this topper before.

Then, picking up daughter and holding her high,
High as the angel I figured out why.
The angel was special for she brought the grace
Of a hug and a smile on my little one's face.

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