Jeff sighed as he sat down at the desk in his father's den. He used to be such a great writer, but lately, well lately he hadn't been writing very much of anything. He'd get two lines down, just enough to make him crumple the page up and toss it onto the soon to be growing mountain on the floor besides him.

Tonight, however Jeff felt energetic. He felt like he just HAD to write something, anything. He had had this feeling all day...yet it wasn't until an hour ago that he realized what he why he had it...

One hour earlier..

Jeff, Matt and their father had just sat down at the table for dinner. As they always did each night, they thanked the Lord for their dinner, said they missed their mother and wife...but that night Jeff added something. He missed the Angel.

"Jeff, what Angel?" his dad had asked him when they finished grace.

"The sad one." He replied.

"Sad One?" Gilbert asked his youngest son.

"Yes, Sad One!" his youngest replied with a slight tone of anger in his voice.

"Jeff..." Matt had muttered.

"Jeffery Nero Hardy, I will NOT have you take that tone of voice with me young man. Go up to your room" Gilbert yelled. He hated being so tough on the boy's, but sometimes they gave him no choice but to.

Jeff, pushed his chair out, got up and walked upstairs' without saying another word. His father and Matt finished their dinner in silence. Neither had spoken to Jeff since.

Present Time

Jeff picked the pen up and stared at the paper. Not sure how to begun. Hour's went by and nothing came to him...finally Jeff fell asleep at the desk.

When he awoke the next morning, surprised and sore that he'd slept on the hard chair. He stood to stretch. Doing so, he knocked the paper to the ground. Frowning a little he bent to pick it up. Noticing the words on it.

"Wait a minute..." he said." But I..."

As he began to read the poem Jeff's eye's went wide.

Word's and Letter's

An Angel looked down upon the Earth,
watching the million's upon millions,
hustling to finish their Christmas shopping's.
Thinking to himself he wished he was one of them,
for surely they had all looked so happy and content.
Unlike himself, they all had smiles upon their face's.
For he had lost his cheerfulness,
and had even forgotten the moves it takes just to smile.
Remembering the past was the only happiness he would give himself,
for the present and the future were only words and letters to him.
Someday soon he hoped to understand why everything,
and anything dealing with heartache dropped in his path.
Maybe someday soon someone will show him how to smile,
and maybe just maybe lift that heartache from his soul.
For an Angel who's forgotten how to smile,
will soon die off, or maybe even be a word or letter to someone else.

Jeff knew he didn't write this...but that that certain Sad Angel had...what did he want to say by this? Confused Jeff sat back down on the chair. As he sat his father came in. Noticing the look on Jeff's face, he grew concerned.

"Son, are you all right?" he asked.

Jeff wordlessly handed his father the paper.

Gilbert read the scribbled writing, he smiled a little. Then looked down at his son.

"Jeff where did you get this?"

Jeff looked up at his father.

"I wrote it... At least I think I wrote it last night."

"I don't understand. How did you write this last night? This is the poem I wrote when I first met your mother."

Jeff's eye's went wide with surprise. After a few second's he smiled and looked at his father.

"Dad I know who the sad angel was." He said.

"Who son?"

"Mom. She wanted us to know that she's watching over us. And that she loved us."

Gilbert Hardy looked down at the paper and then to his son.

"I think your right Jeff. She wanted us to know she's still there, still right at home.. watching over us."