Blessing

Anna feels the brush of Elsa’s fingers tickling her nose. Elsa’s touch is soft as the first sprinkle of snowflakes that flutter down like butterflies on the day of the first snowfall, tickling the tongues of joyous children that catch them in their merriment.

The two are snug in bed together. Anna smiles, but does not wake. She lets Elsa tickle on lightly, lets her sister’s laughter resound in her ears like the sound of chimes in a cool, soft breeze.

To simply feel her sister’s touch is a small miracle. To hear her happy, when both their lives had been anguish, is more marvelous still.

Anna savors this, thanking heaven for her blessing.