Hark! It's Harold the Angel Singing!

By Lynn Gayle and Linda Mooney

It's supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, but Leyland Scott is down in the dumps. It's his first Christmas since losing his mom, it's possible his job of over twenty years is about to be axed, and he just can't find it in himself to care about anything really. Except for one thing—Lynette who works at the coffee shop. She's the only bright spot in his day.

 

Lynette is fairly new in town, having made the move to the big city a few months ago to find herself. She's struggling to make ends meet but she's determined to prove she can make it. During that short time, she's become interested in Leyland, who frequents the coffee shop. And when he finally asks her out, she's skeptical at first but agrees, only to discover she's happy she did.

 

The two have a common concern when they hear the wildly enthusiastic, if a bit (all right, a lot) out of tune Christmas carols being belted out by an underdressed kid wearing angel wings and no shoes. It's freezing outside, with snow covering the ground, but the boy appears unfazed and continues merrily singing his heart out in front of passersby. No one knows who the kid is, but Harold, as they end up naming him, seems to know them all.

 

Normally not a religious man, Leyland has a change in spirit. The angel boy seems to deliver a message, letting him know this is his opportunity for a fresh start. He's told when one door closes, another door opens. Perhaps God, with the help of Harold, has opened that door. If that's true, Leyland is ready to go through it with Lynette.

 

It's the most wonderful time of the year. Maybe it's also time for a new beginning for them both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mooney
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781953797254

Book preview

Chapter One

Leyland Scott sat alone at the small table inside the corner coffee shop. His barely touched cinnamon raisin bagel sat in front of him. Uneaten not because he wasn’t hungry, but because he had a lot on his mind.

Sighing heavily, he lifted the coffee mug to his lips to find the contents lukewarm. Cold coffee he could tolerate, although he preferred it hot. Lukewarm, however, was inexcusable.

Just like his life at this moment. Inexcusable.

Overhead, the sound of Christmas carols could be heard coming through the ceiling speakers. At least they were old-fashioned ones, like Frank Sinatra and Andy Williams. The sort of music he grew up listening to whenever he and his parents stayed at the grandparents’ house for the holidays. Even now, he remembered Pawpaw Bates putting a stack of LPs on the old stereo turntable then turning the volume down low to give them several hours’ worth of music that played almost undetectable in the background of their lives. Leyland smiled to himself. He loved how the music didn’t blare but was soft enough to subconsciously put you into the spirit. That and the smells. The gingerbread cookies and pumpkin pies baking. The decorated spruce tree that sat in the corner of the living room. Those were only a few memories. There were so many more.

Memories only, he ruefully thought. If only there was a way to bring those memories back to life. But what use would it do? There’s nothing out there worth remembering anyway.

He bowed his head as he thumbed the top of the mug’s handle and debated going over to the young woman working behind the counter to ask for a refill, just to heat up the current contents. To be perfectly honest, she was currently…no, she was the only bright spot in his life. Had been for the last five months. Ever since he first spotted her working behind the counter.

Something about her welcoming smile, and the way she greeted and took people’s orders caught his attention. When it had been his turn at the counter, and she’d gazed at him with those beautiful blue eyes…

He quashed the thoughts rising in his mind. Forget it, Leyland. Forget it and drop it.

He was about to check the time on his cell phone but blew it off. If he was late to work, he was late. It didn’t matter anyway. He was at the point where he no longer cared. Not about work, not about the job. Not even about life itself, if truth be told.

He raised the mug again when he remembered its cooling contents. He snorted in amusement at himself and started to get up when he caught sight of the little kid coming around to the side of the shop. Through the wide windows, he watched the young boy pause on the snow-covered sidewalk and look around. His arms were filled with a small stool, which he set down.

Curious, Leyland stepped closer to the window. He knew it had to be freezing outside. Add in the wind chill factor, it was easily that cold. Yet this kid, who looked to be around ten years old, was dressed like an angel. Correction: half-dressed. One shoulder lay bare, as were his feet. A pair of huge white wings hung down his back, attached there with a pair of shoulder straps. People passing around him were bundled from head to toe, but the kid didn’t seem affected by the chill.

He placed something on the cement before stepping onto the short stool. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth and began singing.

Joy to the world! The Lord has come!

Leyland winced. The kid was loud and off-key, but he had to give the boy credit for his enthusiasm.

Let e-e-v’ry-ee ha-a-art prepa-yere hi-im roo-oo-oom! The kid spread out his arms and waved his hands, as if conducting a choir or orchestra. If it weren’t for the words, Leyland would be hard pressed to figure out what carol the boy was singing. Regardless of the kid’s tone-deaf production, people dropped something in the container he’d set on the sidewalk.

When he finished the song, he immediately launched into another one. O, come all ye faithful! Joyful and triumphant!

A movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Leyland glanced over to see the woman clearing off the table behind him. From where he stood, he could read her nametag, although he already knew what it said.

LYNETTE

Lynette and Leyland.

He gritted his teeth as he wiped that thought from his mind and turned to her. ’Scuse me, he commented and pointed out the window. Does that kid live around here?

The woman glanced where he indicated. That attractive smile he often saw lifted her lips. Never seen him before yesterday. But Fauna says he was here the day before. Seems he parks himself right there in that same spot every morning, sings a few songs, then leaves. Guess he likes this location, which is why he’s back again.

What’s his name? Does his parents know he’s out there in the cold? Look at him! He doesn’t have any shoes on!

The woman straightened. We don’t know his name, but Fauna calls him Harold.

Harold?

Yeah. Harold, because that’s one of the songs he always sings. You know. ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.’ She laughed softly at the play on words.

Leyland continued to stare at the child as the woman continued. "I’d hate to think he’s out there begging for change in this weather. But you’re