Baby brothers are such a bother sometimes, so little Angela decides to run away from home. How far will she get in the cold, snowy weather?

—

“Mommy and Daddy hate me. And I hate them too.” Angela squished and slogged through wet snow in Daddy’s gumboots. Lacy snowflakes floated onto her forehead and clung to her tears. “Katie always gets what she wants. It’s not fair.”

Her knuckles brushed against the rough bark of a tree trunk. “Ouch!” She crammed her fist into her mouth. The warmth of her tongue soon calmed the stinging, and her sobs fell silent in the dance of drifting fairy-flakes.

A sudden gust of wind knifed through her summer jacket. “Go away, wind. I’ll never go home again. I’m not afraid of cold, or snow, or nothing. I’ll go to Aunt Corina’s. She loves me.” She hugged herself to settle her shivering. “And Auntie doesn’t have any kids, so I won’t have to share.”

She lay back in the snow and formed an angel as she flapped her arms and legs. The angel on our Christmas tree looks so happy. The aromatic fragrance of buried pine needles flooded her nostrils, reviving memories of happy autumn hikes in the woods with Mommy and Daddy.

She gazed through the thicket behind the house and peeked at the frosty kitchen window. I wonder what Mommy’s cooking.

Turkey and chocolate brownies and pumpkin pie wedges frolicked before her face in the aromas that crept from the cozy kitchen. Maybe a baby sister isn’t so bad. Katie isn’t allowed to eat turkey. And it’s cold outside. She shook the snowflakes from her hair and sniffled. Maybe I’ll run away tomorrow.

© Kathy Steinemann