And while thinking these long, long thoughts, Anne Marie fell asleep.
Just why Anne Marie woke in the middle of the night she never knew. There was not a sound, not even the ticking of the clock to be heard.
The candle was still burning. Its soft yellow light made a bright glow in one corner of the dark room, and there, before Anne Marie, directly in the light stood—the Christmas Angel!
How could Anne Marie be mistaken?
The Angel was in white, as Angels always are, and she glistened from head to foot as if powdered with star-dust or light-o’-the-moon. She stood quite still, with a sweet smile on her face, but as Anne Marie watched, slowly and as light as a feather the Angel moved toward her bed.
Anne Marie held her breath. She was not in the least afraid. Over her bed bent the Angel, and Anne Marie felt a kiss, the gentlest, softest kiss you may imagine, placed upon her forehead.
It was all so beautiful! so lovely! Anne Marie wished that the Angel might stay with her forever. Not for any reason would she stir and perhaps startle the Angel away.
She closed her eyes for an instant only, but when she opened them again the room was dark. The Christmas Candle had burned out and the Christmas Angel had vanished.
When Anne Marie next awoke, the room was filled with daylight. It was a gray light, to be sure, for already a few flakes were drifting down from the cloudy sky and the day promised to be a snowy one.
But at least morning had come, and it took Anne Marie only a moment to dart to the hearth and find her shoe well-filled, to carry it in to Maman and Papa’s bedside, to wish them a ‘Joyeux Noel’ With many kisses, and then to climb upon the bed to see what was in her shoe.