Once upon a time there was an angel sitting in the snow, cradling her broken wings, looking up at the sky. It was a distant sky, distant like the horizon. Always present, but never to be touched. Not anymore. It’s over, she whispered.
But she was wrong. For it wasn’t the beauty of her wings, that had made her an angel, but the beauty of her heart. If only she could see that…
Snowflakes whirled around her head, covered her hair, her shoulders and her broken wings.
Someone came and sat down next to her. I was looking for you, he said softly. But she turned away. It’s over, she whispered again, they are broken.
And yet they are wings, he replied, Broken wings can heal and you will learn to fly again. As long as you’re alive, it is never over, no matter how broken you are. For broken wings can heal. And you will learn to fly again.