Ice Angel (short story) by Leanne Dyck

A short story of hope in times of darkness.

                                                                             photo by ldcyk

Ice Angel

Tears trickled down my cheeks. The cold air froze my damp skin, and it hurt like knives. Words had been said that I couldn't take back--and neither could he. I walked on in the only direction I could--away. The snow crushed under my boots as I grew closer to the lights surrounding the outdoor rink.

I'd left all I knew behind to follow him to this province where I didn't know anyone and barely understood the language. And now... And now...

You aren't alone. You are my precious child. I love you; I always have; I always will. When you need me, I will always be here for you. The voice was coming from inside of me--deep inside, near my heart. I have a plan for everything, for everyone. I have a plan for you. You can't see the "whys" or the "whats" or the "wheres", but there is such beauty and much joy there. Just believe. Dark times will come, but I will carry you through them. I will. For you are my precious child. 

I wanted so badly to believe the words, but with my whole life in pieces, I wondered how I could. 

Boots replaced by skates, I walked through the snow to the ice. Two skates on the ice, I pushed myself forward and fell hard onto my knees. I didn't belong there. All I wanted to do was leave but... 

Something floated over the ice. She sparkled. Was she an angel? She spun and leapt. Was she a ballerina? She could have been my little sister. All I wanted to do was watch her but she skated over to me. She said something in French and stretched out her hands to me.

I shook my head. "Non."

But she was determined. And she gave me such a sweet smile that I knew I had to try. So I held her hands and she slowly skated backward, pulling me along. I couldn't believe it, I was skating. Sailing over the ice. Capturing sunlight on that dark night.

"Sylvie," a woman's voice called from somewhere beyond the snowbanks.

"Ici, Mamma," Sylvie replied.

The moment was over and I knew I had to leave. "Merci." I waved good-bye to Sylvie, scrambled to the snow, tore off my skates, and walked out of the ring of lights before Sylvie's mom could see me. 

But the memory of that magical moment remained with me, buoyed me up. The joy I felt skating with Sylvie gave me hope that tomorrow could be a brighter day.

Next Sunday...

December 27

2020:  My List of Accomplishments

Facing the challenges of 2020, many turned to the Internet for solutions. This presented unique opportunities for many--including me. Log on next Sunday and I'll tell you more about my year.

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December 24

Happy Holidays!

From Me

To You

Log on this coming Thursday to receive your special holiday present. It's a...a...

Office Party (short story)

by Leanne Dyck

I hope you like it.

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I watched a helpful podcast on editing this week...

An Expert Editorial Summit on How to Edit Your Own Writing

While working on my manuscript, I've found it helpful to ask myself--how does (character) know this?

Book Review: a chapter in The Holy Man by Susan Trott

I'm a member of a book club that is currently reading The Holy Man by Susan Trott.

Each week, one of us delves more deeply into a chapter and presents our thoughts to the group. Here is my summary of a chapter...

This chapter is appropriately named 'heart' because heart is the central theme of this chapter.

We are told how much Joe (the holy man) enjoys the talents of each member of the hermitage, equally.

Helena's passion is cooking wholesome, delicious food. She (quote) 'had established a chain of cheap nutritional restaurants in poor areas that were also cooking schools.' (end of quote) And thus in this way, she shares her passion with those who can truly benefit from her knowledge.

Hail and hearty Kim enjoys moving rocks. He does this to build his upper body strength, but Joe is unclear of any additional plan. I think this eludes to the passion of simply being.

All the monks seem to truly enjoy living in the hermitage because they are often heard whistling, singing and laughing.

The monks are already upset about Joe's decision to spend the winter alone in the hermitage, so he doesn't tell them about his heart troubles, but, instead, tries to deal with this problem by himself by popping heart pills. He worries that he is growing dependent on these pills. 

All the monks are affectionate towards Joe, but Daniel watches these interactions and grows jealous. He thinks Joe shares (quote) 'intimate moments with them and not with him.' (end of quote)

Joe understands how Daniel feels but realizes that if he does anything to try and solve this problem, it would only worsen things. (quote) 'He knew that Daniel was troubled. He seemed to be feeling resentment, as well as jealousy. Joe considered resentment one of the worst of the evils, worse than envy or hate or egotism, although all the feelings were kin. But resentment was insidious; it ate up your vitals. It alienated you from your comrades. You felt wronged, a victim. And you wanted to get even.' (end of quote)

This resentment partly steams from Daniel being forced to redefine himself. His passion is dance and yet, as he ages, his body is failing him. The level of success he has been able to obtain wasn't good enough for him, and he worries that the days he can devout to his craft are numbered. Joe wishes that there was a pill Daniel could take to control his bitterness.

The chapter ends with Helena returning to the kitchen and Daniel and Joe, together, laughing at Kim's accident. This laughter vaporizes (quote) 'the creatures inside them' (end of quote). End of chapter.

My thoughts regarding this chapter...

At one time or another, I think we all have reached the point where Daniel is. I know I've reached it over and over again in my life. My passion has led me from my dreams of being a journalist to a fourteen year career caring for children in day care centres to becoming a small businesswoman to a knitwear designer to a writer. As I traveled down this path, I discovered more aspects of who I was, I uncovered new talents. If I could sit down with Daniel, I would say grieve the loss but don't dwell in it. One dream may die but you're not dead. Celebrate the opportunity to discover a brand new you.

More...
Last week I talked about The Holy Man in my article:  Are book clubs too confining? (link)

Next post: Laureen's Submission
A metafiction short story with multiple points of view--a writer, an acquisitions editor, a publisher. The main character is Laureen, a pre-published author.

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