(Ruoxue story) Angel

angel

Text/Su Zhi Ruoxue

After a winter rain, the temperature plummeted, so cold that the glass window condensed a thin layer of ice flowers.

He grabbed his fist, pressed the outside of his palm on the glass, and then printed five small dots with his fingertips, and a small foot appeared. One time at a time, between the ice flowers, there were two small footprints walking around.

I'd like to imagine it as an angel with transparent wings that once passed by my dreams.

angel. angel.

Saying the name softly, it's a little rusty, but also a little kind.

Yes, I remember, though after so many turbulent years.

A clear laugh gradually approached, a pair of smiling eyes flashed into the camera, and a pair of upturned horn braids shook the calm time.

Angel, an angel who has fallen into the world by mistake, a lively little girl.

Six-year-old Angel was lying on the hospital bed, her mischievous little feet stomping the quilt all over the end of the bed, and the pale green hospital gown wrapped around her thin body.

Her cheeks and bedding were one color, pale to almost no blood, and her eyes were getting bigger and darker. A pair of horn braids on the pillow are constantly swaying with the rotation of the head. Although there was a needle in the vein, a pair of small hands refused to be quiet, pointing out the window, and the white tape on the back of the hand was a little glaring.

Her mother was quietly guarding the bedside, an intellectual woman, mother and daughter looked very similar, angel's big black eyes should be inherited from her.

When she saw me come in, she bent a nice smile and exchanged a look of helplessness with me.

We all know that Angel wants to go out and go outside in the snow.

She wanted to put on her little leather boots and creak on the snow, leaving two rows of crooked little footprints behind her; she wanted to run wild in the garden and catch a light snow butterfly; she wanted to sit on a small stone pier and pick up a fat white mushroom...

It is the new sunshine after the snow, the ginkgo tree in front of the building is draped in a white wedding dress, the jade trees in the garden are dancing with flowers and silver butterflies, the pool is also full of snow, and the sun falls into it, like sprinkling a layer of broken silver in a large white jade plate, pure and sparkling.

Such beauty, whether it is stepping on the snow to find plums, or building snowmen and having snowball fights, is a pleasant thing.

But, Angel, you can't.

You can't reach out your little hand to touch the beauty of the snow, you can't grab a handful of snow and throw it far away, you can't fall silly and print a "big" word on the thick snow.

You can't, even if you desire it so much, even if you're separated from the snow by a thin layer of glass, even if your little wish seems so simple.

Your physical condition, your condition, determines that you can only be locked up in this warm and lonely ward, and you can only look out the window with your eyes wide open, and from the gap in the curtain, you can look at the branches of the ginkgo tree full of broken jade.

The prayer in your eyes is unbearable, your well-behavedness is heartbreaking, and the string of "sweet words" spit out by your small mouth makes it impossible to refuse.

I bend down and gently pinch your little face.

First turn the temperature up the room by one degree, then pull open the pale green curtains with a "whoosh" sound, and the transparent sunlight pours in, coating your pale cheeks with a touch of redness.

You laugh happily: "Auntie, Aunt Cher, behold, the big tree is like you, wearing a white hat and a white robe!" You turned your head to look out the window, then turned to look at me, and blinked mischievously, "There's a lot of snow outside, and there's snow in the house—Aunt Xue'er, are you just snow?" Hello beautiful, as white as snow. Angel will grow up to be as beautiful as you, right? Ha~"

Your laughter is like a wind chime under the eaves, crisp and immaculate, and a sound hurts my heart.

Wait until you grow up. When you grow up...

I turned around, calmed the sour feelings that were rising in my heart, and replied with a casual smile: "Yes, yes, our little angel, when he grows up, he must be more beautiful than his aunt, as beautiful as Snow White, okay?" ”

Back at the nurse's station, I picked up the basin and went downstairs.

When a basin full of snow was placed in front of Angel's bed, her eyes were immediately wide open, and her small mouth was opened in the shape of an "○"—she was so surprised.

"Ah even, Aunt Cher, you are so nice, I like you the most!" She stared at the snow in the basin and shouted loudly, but she didn't care to look up at me.

Very slowly and slowly, she held out her small hand, as if afraid of waking up the elf in her dream, and she tentatively poked it with her finger, and poked it again.

When the smooth snow surface turned into a white honeycomb, she picked up a handful and gently spread it: "It's snowing, it's snowing, haha, I'm going to snow!" ”

After a while, Angel changed her game again, grabbed a handful of snow and squeezed it tightly, and arranged one snow dumpling after another: "New Year's Day, wrapping dumplings..."

Snow foam and laughter danced together in the sun, and the ward seemed to be the home of the white elves.

Angel had a lot of fun, ignoring the fact that her little hands were red, I wanted to remind her, but looking at her happy look, she couldn't bear to interrupt this snow-like pure happy time.

Angel's mother saw that I wanted to stop talking and shook her head slightly at me, signaling me not to interfere. In her light smile, there is gratitude, there is gratitude, and more, it is unbearable and unwilling.

The hot mist hit her eyes, and I nodded at her, tugged at Angel's horn braid, and turned to leave the ward.

When the winter passed, Angel's condition gradually stabilized and she could be discharged from the hospital.

The best times, always on the way.

Angel's parents sold their possessions and accompanied her on the road.

From one city, to another, from one country to another. Along the way, reap the generous gifts of nature.

Blue ocean, desert yellow sand, babbling stream, smoky green mountains, quiet forests, vast grasslands.

Basking in the moon, counting the stars, listening to the rain and the wind, accompanied by the sound of nature, walking all over the cape.

Three years of traveling life have achieved a rich and happy soul, and when Angel left, she bid farewell to the world with a pure smile.

The blue bird flew from the sky with a crisp laugh and placed a transparent seed in my long-awaited palm.

There was no snow outside the window, and through the crystalline ice flowers, I saw a pure world, vast and clear.

(Image from the Internet)