The banks of flickering candles hold the prayers of the people, their warmth pushing the wishes high up to heaven. Each holds a hope or a dream or a wish. Something that has been asked for, wholeheartedly.
Sitting in a pew a small girl watches others as they pray and light candles, fixing in her mind exactly what she would say if she had a coin.
In her heart, though, she says the prayer.
Unseen by anyone, an angel sits beside her and whispers that it shall be done.
Moments later, Oliver-style, she meets the couple who would adopt her.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):
PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard
