Every year for one week in December, Cheap Street Church in the quaint English market town of Sherborne, Dorset, holds a Christmas Tree Festival.
Each tree is decorated by a charity or local club. This is what greets you upon first entering the church:
Before walking along the side isles of the church to admire all the beautifully and uniquely decorated Christmas trees, my attention was immediately caught by the three trees twinkling prettily above the podium in front of the beautiful organ pipes…
…then back down again to this sweet little nativity scene:
Each tree is adorned with hand-made decorations in keeping with the theme of the group or charity. Twinkling brightly away within the tranquility of the church setting, it is lovely to be able to peacefully walk around, taking time to pause quietly and remember the real reason why we celebrate Christmas.
This aptly named ‘Feed My Sheep’ tree was made by the Food Bank, a wonderful organisation helping those in need:
Here is the Royal British Legion’s entry:
The varied designs are all crafted so beautifully with love and care:
This one stood out for the miniature books made by the local library:
But I adored this Christmas tree made by a local knitting club. If you look closely, you’ll see that the strand of Christmas lights are all knitted, as well as the lovely little Angel on top of the Christmas tree:
I was so taken by this little Angel, and perhaps it is by no coincidence that Charli has asked us to write our flash fiction story this week about, well, Angels! Anything at all, so long as it is 99 words, no more, no less. Thinking of English market towns, their churches, their shops, their pubs, and of new beginnings, here then is my flash:
Gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white, Misty drove into the darkest corner of the car park and switched the engine off.
In the quiet and gripped by a sudden panic, she wondered why she had ever agreed to come on this blind date.
Walking across the dimly lit car park towards the pub’s entrance, a bright light suddenly shot across the sky. Misty looked up at the pub sign, now mysteriously illuminated, as she stopped short: ‘The Angel’.
A strange peace came over her then as she saw him walking towards her, smiling brightly.
This post is also in response to the Weekly Photo Challenge of ‘Twinkle’.