Give thanks
It was a cold Thanksgiving day, and by one o'clock in the afternoon there was almost no one to be seen on the deserted and silent streets. The weather forecast had announced that the temperatures, which were already too low for that time of the year, would drop even more, and snow was expected to fall in some parts of Utah.
Inside that sophisticated restaurant, with a warm and cosy atmosphere, some families and groups of friends were gathered together with good food and drinks and happy chatter. A woman, probably in her late forties, watched as her business provided her the profits of almost ten years of hard work. On that day, the restaurant was open just for a few hours, though. With the holiday all the shops and other restaurants in that neighbourhood were going to close soon, and only reopen on the following day.
When a tall blond man, with green eyes and wearing an elegant suit, passed by the counter the lady called him. "Erm... Andrew, could you do me a favour?" She said, as he came closer.
"Yes, sure, Ms Simpson,” Andrew replied, with his usual friendliness.
She gave him some forms with lots of calculations and other data. "Could you take these papers to Harry? He's been in his office since he arrived and I know he would like to take a look at them."
The blond angel nodded his head. "I'll do it right now!"
"Thanks." She smiled at him and watched until he disappeared through a door, which led to an area only for authorised people. Then, she continued to co-ordinate the waiters and the other employees, searching for the best way to serve the restaurant clients.
Andrew was in charge of commanding the waiters and the other employees. To the ones who worked there, a competent assistant, hired on the previous weeks. What nobody suspected was that there was a messenger of God amongst them, sent to give hope and some of the Father's love to one of His children.
Andrew followed a long, red carpeted corridor and knocked at the last of the four wooden doors spread along the way. A voice telling him to come in made him turn the door knob.
"Excuse me, Mr Marshal," he said to a gentleman who was sitting behind a huge oak table, filled with papers and accounts reports. Like the woman in the counter, he seemed to be in his late forties, and despite the cold expression on his face, a closer look revealed that his dark eyes hid much sorrow.
"Come in, Andrew."
"Ms Simpson asked me to give you these..." the blond angel approached the table and handed him the papers.
"Oh, good. I was going to ask her about these forms."
Andrew watched him for a few seconds and then tried to start a conversation - a task that was not easy, he had learned that on the last few days. "Can I set a table for you later on? I believe you and Ms Simpson will want to have a break for dinner."
"No, no table needed. Matter of fact the only thing that makes me glad on a day like today is this!" he said, showing him the papers he just received, "The money we get on the so called 'family holidays'!"
There was a mix of irony and bitterness in his voice, and no smile on his face as he said that. Andrew frowned at the thought of having to deal with such a cold human being, even though he knew there was a sad past behind all that indifference.
"I see... I just thought that as you and your sister-in-law are like a family, that you'd like to give thanks for being together and running such a successful business."
The man raised his head and looked at him, with even more bitterness in his eyes. "You know, Andrew, every Thanksgiving day my wife used to say that 'we should thank God for everything, but especially for the chance to help the others, cause that's when He made Himself more present than ever.'" He remembered, fighting the emotion that was filling in his eyes.
"Your wife sounded like a very wise woman."
"Well, she also got was a tumour in the brain, and God couldn't help her. Then He took her away from me, and possibly in her last moments she might have realised that there was nothing to be grateful anymore." He said, and then added.
"I understand how the loss of a loved one can be hard, but you can be sure that God didn't take her away from you. Your wife had a serious illness, and He suffered with you and her on the night she had to leave this world."
"Yeah, right..." he said, "... if God is so powerful, why didn't He make a miracle to happen and helped my wife?" Andrew was going to say something else, but the man interrupted him, "Well, who cares? It's thanksgiving after all, right? And then we'll have Christmas. It's time for miracles, and you gotta pray to be one lucky one to get your miracle. Pity that we weren't those."
"Luck doesn't exist, Mr Marshal. And sometimes miracles happen around us every day, we just have to pay attention. And when we realise we're standing before one, give thanks for this blessing."
"Well, you know what? My sister-in-law and I work every night and day, if there's someone we should thank for the restaurant, this someone is ourselves!"
"I see." The blond angel let out a small sigh, still wondering how he would reach to his assignment's heart and make him see what was around him. He was going to say something else but some snowflakes falling outside the window called his attention. The forecast was right: temperature had fallen even more.
The man followed his gaze and saw the snow outside. "See? What's there to give thanks now? Luckily I got a bunch of people in here, drinking and eating, but no one is gonna get out of their houses to come here now. And I bet the ones who are here will pick up their things and go home very soon!"
"I don't know, Mr Marshal... there might be people out there..." He said, as he walked over up to the window and looked outside, his green eyes carefully scanning the area around the restaurant.
"And who in their perfect sense would go out of their houses with a weather like this?"
"Someone who doesn't have a house..." Andrew suddenly felt a rush of cold and anguish filling in his soul. It was as if he had been abruptly taken out of that warm restaurant and thrown in the snow. "Erm... if you excuse me..."
He quickly left his assignment's office, followed the long corridor, passed by the kitchen and finally reaching the back door. Through the double glazing, he saw a group of homeless people. Men, women and children were gathered together around a small fire, lit up with old newspapers and magazines. They were wearing old shabby clothes and it was possible to see they were not enough to send away the cold.
And among them, was Monica. His Monica.
X
"I don't think they'll give us any food, Monica..." a little girl said, standing next the Irish angel and looking at the restaurant with disbelief. She could be around nine, had black skin and big black eyes. Her hair was tied up in two braids, and Monica herself had offered to make them.
"You should never give up hope, Grace. Remember that God is watching over us all. Sometimes, when you least expect it, good things can happen to you!"
"Do you think God could get me a new mom?" There was so much hope in the girl's eyes that it broke Monica's heart.
The angel caressed her face and smiled warmly at her, "Oh, sweetheart... I'd tell you that God is watching over wee Grace from up above and making a special plan for her, and whatever it is, I'm sure it'll bring you much joy."
"I wish I could have a family, you know? People to watch over me, like a regular mom and dad... I don't remember my mom's face, she died when I was too little. But I do remember her voice and what she used to tell me." She explained, and then looked at a lady who was sitting closer to the fire, talking to the other people in the group, "Aunt Carla takes care of me but she's got her kids too, and I know it's difficult to watch over everybody..."
The Irish angel's heart ached when she heard that, and she lifted a silent prayer for Grace's mother. Now more than ever she could imagine the pain a mother who is separated from her little daughter would bear. Lost for words, she held the little girl close to her, and as Grace returned that warm embrace Monica looked around her.
It was freezing cold outside and now that the snow had started how long would that group of homeless people bear until help arrived? The streets were becoming empty as the hours ticked, and due to the Thanksgiving holiday, the city would become deserted and hardly anyone would appear to help them in case that assignment turned wrongly.
She looked at the double glazing door of the restaurant, not far from the group, and saw the pair of green eyes watching her with great concern. Monica was in human form, and that meant she was exposed to all sorts of dangers and privations any human was, such as the hunger and cold she was feeling now.
Andrew knew it. He could feel she also needed help.
X
"Excuse me, Harry..." Ms Simpson knocked at the office door and opened it.
"Yes, come in Julie. I'm almost finishing here."
"I guess we'll close in a few minutes. With the snow the customers started to leave."
The man rolled his eyes and let out an impatient sigh. "All this snow... Yeah, let's close it and go home. Though I'm sure there's nothing to watch on TV either..." he said, and for a few moments, while he organised the papers, his sister-in-law observed him in silence. The expression on her face softened a little and she tilted her head thinking on the many years they'd known each other and the long time she would spend with him every day. As a matter of fact, everyone who knew them used to say that Julie was Harry's human side, the only true friend he had in the world.
And to an extent, that was true, even though Julie's feelings were more intense than friendship.
"Julie?" he repeated, as she seemed to be far away.
"Yes?"
"Are you leaving now? I could take you home if you want. I just have to tidy up these papers. It's not safe driving around with a weather like this at night."
"It's alright, then, Harry. I'll be waiting for you outside." She said, and with a slight smile and then closed the door behind her.
As she left, it was the expression on his face that changed to a more serious one. He sighed deeply and spoke to himself. "God took your sister away from me all those years ago, Julie... But I'm not gonna risk losing you..."
His sister-in-law bid good night to the last guests to leave the restaurant and finally put the "closed" sign on the door. She had asked Andrew to help her tidy up the tables and chairs but the woman noticed there was something deeply worrying her assistant when he let the second glass fall from his hands and crash on the floor.
"Andrew? Is there something wrong?" she wanted to know, watching how nervous he seemed to be.
"I... I'm sorry, Ms Simpson. I... I guess it's been quite a busy day..." he apologised, his eyes turning from the woman to the window.
"I know you probably have some place better to go..." she said, with sadness.
"I go where I am needed, Ms Simpson."
"But you probably have a family of your own. I wish I was that lucky, you see. Harry is my only family, and he's not exactly in the mood for a Thanksgiving celebration."
Despite the fact that he did want to be with his family, there was something else causing him great concern. He could feel Monica's condition and his first impulse was to go outside and rescue her from the cold and the snow, along with the poor ones who were together with her. But he could hear a voice whispering in his soul that there was an assignment to be fulfilled at that very moment and was the one to accomplish his Father's will.
X
Monica was trying hard to control her coughing while she remained around the fireplace, together with the other homeless people outside the restaurant. The snowflakes kept on falling, and the Irish angel wondered when they would be removed out of the streets. Her feet and hands were trembling, and for the first time in that assignment, she was afraid.
"Do you think people in the restaurant would allow us to come in for a while, Monica?" Grace wanted to know, holding the angel's hand and also feeling her stomach churning. "They always used to give us something in the restaurant near where we lived. Now that we had to move away, I don't see who's gonna help us."
"Oh, Grace... I'm not sure who is coming to help us... actually... I guess cold is doing something strange to me, you know..." the angel said, and then leaned against a brick wall, causing the little girl to worry.
"Monica? You're not alright, are you?" she said, reaching for her friend's eyes.
"I'm... I'll be alright, Grace..." Monica managed to say, even though she was feeling a terrible headache. Grace was still a child but living in poor slums had given her the experience of a much older person: she had seen it happen before. The kind lady who had patiently helped to take care of her in the last few weeks was dying with cold and hunger.
The other people in the group helped Monica and brought her closer to the fireplace, while Grace observed how her friend's hands trembled. The girl looked at the restaurant on the other side of the street, and then back at Monica. A sudden and desperate idea had crossed her mind.
The restaurant was almost empty now. The customers had left and soon the waiters and cooks would also leave; there were just a few people in there. Due to this, nobody saw it when a nine-year-old little girl opened up the back door and quietly crossed the kitchen. There was food in there, but right now she knew an adult's help was more important than stealing food. After all, how much could her short little arms carry in order to help a group of more than ten people?
She found another door and opened it up slowly, her little heart beating fast with fear and nervousness. There was nobody in the long corridor filled with many doors. Grace stood still and nervously fidgeted with the hem of her coat. What would she do now? Finally, she kept on walking, but now with slower paces, as if she was stepping on a deadly ground.
And all of a sudden, before the little girl knew it, one of the doors opened up and a man came out of the room. Harry and Grace stared at each other in surprise and shock.
"What does it mean? Who are you?"
"I'm... I'm sorry, sir but... I need help..." she managed to say, those black slanting eyes filled with fear but also with urgency and the innocence typical of a child.
"Help? But who let you in? Where did you come from?" Harry was frowning, upset with the fact that a stranger had broken into his restaurant - and, what he didn't know, through the door Andrew had left open.
"I was outside with the others... We were hoping you could give us some food but now-"
"Food? Did you know that this is a private place?" His authoritarian tone of voice would have scared a child. But not Grace. The little girl gave two steps and, leaving him completely astonished, she searched for his hand. "Please, sir, we need help... We should thank God for everything, but especially for the chance to help the others, cause that's when He made Himself more present than ever... Please, help us... We'll be truly grateful..."
"Where... did you hear that?" he asked, eyeing the girl with a haunted face.
"I can hardly remember my mom, but I know she used to say that all the time... She learned it when she was a nurse, right before we lost our house... She took care of a lady who was very ill, and one day, this lady said that to her..." she explained. "Mom used to repeat it all the time so I would never forget to help."
The girl's words brought tears to his eyes, and at that very moment, Harry realised it wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be a coincidence.
"Oh, God..." he whispered, in complete shock.
"Yes, God is here now, Mr Marshal... In your heart, asking you to do what your wife would have done..." Andrew had heard that conversation, and was already in his angelic form. Julie was standing right next to him, and tears of emotion were already falling from her eyes. "Harry... we're standing before an angel..."
"An angel? An... an angel from God?"
"Yes, Mr Marshal. The same angel that was with your wife when she left this world. The same angel that escorted her Home, where she is now. Standing with our loving Father, where there is no pain, no illness, and no suffering. Just His light, and His love."
"You're a real angel?" Grace said, with enchantment.
"Yes, Grace. And I came here with a message for you too. Your mom is now together with Mr Marshal's wife."
"In Heaven, right?"
"Yes. And she's watching over you from where she is, and right now she's smiling because she has a wonderful daughter, who will grow up and do amazing things for the ones who are around her..." Andrew turned to look at the man again, "Mr Marshal, I came here initially with a message for you... But I can see this little girl has already delivered it better than anyone else."
X
They crossed the street and rushed towards the group of homeless people who was standing near the restaurant. "Bring them all to the restaurant!" Mr Marshal commanded, shocked to see how poor and hungry they were.
Andrew was quick to gather a coughing and limp Monica in his arms. "Angel! It's okay, it's over now..." he said, removing his jacket and wrapping it around her much smaller form.
"Andrew..." she whispered, her voice was weak but she had a smile on her face. Reaching out her hand, she touched his handsome face. "...You're here..."
"Yes, baby, and I won't leave you anytime soon." He kissed the palm of her hand and her forehead, and helped her to stand on her feet. They watched as the group of homeless people was taken to the restaurant and Monica looked at him questioningly. "Aren't we going there?"
"No. Our assignment here is over and I'll take you some place else now, okay?"
The group was now gathered in the restaurant, which was opened only for them. Food and drink were distributed, and Julie and Harry promised they would give them new clothes and a place to stay.
"I just wish I hadn't been so blind all these years..." he said, as his sister-in-law sat down next to him. "...to see all the blessings that were surrounding me."
He gently covered Julie's hand with his own, and she looked at him with the same tender smile. This time he was aware of it. "There can be so many things to give thanks now... and I guess you got your miracle, Harry."
"I got my miracle many years ago, Julie." He replied, and then Grace approached them with a broad smile and a huge pot of icecream in her hands, "Mr Marshal, Ms Simpson, I had never tasted raspberry icecream! You were right, Ms Simpson, it's delicious!"
"Guess I got myself two ladies who are crazy about raspberry icecream now! I don't see the fun you see in it!" he joked, as the girl sat down next to them, "I guess I got to keep an eye on you two so my storage of icecream ends before my eyes!"
They laughed and an atmosphere of joy and affection involved that restaurant and all the ones who were invited for that special Thanksgiving dinner.
X
To fulfil that assignment, Andrew had been under human form and was staying in an apartment not far from the restaurant. That's where he took Monica, as quickly as possible, as she needed immediate care. After having a hot shower, Monica dressed up in a robe and now she was in his bedroom, covered with a warm blanket and leaning against lots and lots of pillows, placed there by her beloved angel of death.
She was still coughing, but after receiving some first aids and being in a warm shelter, the Irish angel was feeling much better. Exhaustion and a persistent headache still bothered her but now there was someone who would take care of her. Andrew was there. Carrying a tray with hot soup and some more food, he entered the bedroom and headed straight to the bed, and even though she was smiling at him, moved with so much care, he still kept his face serious. "Here, angel, have something to eat."
"I confess I'm very hungry, you know..." she said, taking the spoon and taking the first sip of that hot soup, "... and I'm also very glad you're the one to prepare the food! It's delicious!"
"I could feel you out there..." he sat down on the bed next to her and as she ate, he caressed her damp hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear. Andrew was studying her meek features carefully, looking for something else other than the signs of exhaustion and the paleness on her beautiful face.
"I know... I wish I could stop it... so you didn't worry so much, but I can't..."
"That's right, you can't... And I don't want to. I want to know everything you think and feel, angel. I want to know if you're alright or if you need me, because I'll always be there for you."
She titled her head and eyed him in a way he found especially endearing. "Well, whenever you're around, I'm alright..." Monica smiled at him and was glad to see a slight smile also forming in the corner of his lips. And on the following second, she was bending her head and kissing him softly, giving him tiny loving kisses as she caressed his handsome face.
"Then I have to inform you I'll be around for the rest of eternity..." he said, once she pulled away, still stroking his face with the back of her slender fingers.
"That's quite good to me..." she replied, her heart melting with so much love for that caring and compassionate angel.
And even though his expression was softer, he was serious again, "Now will you please have your dinner? I'm keeping a good eye on you, Mrs."
"Yes. Husband!" She giggled, and obliged to his request. And it broke Andrew's heart to see how hungry she was - his beloved angel might have spent days in human form without eating properly, exposed to the cold weather and giving up on herself just to help the ones in need. Little Grace, Monica's assignment, was surely going to have a family, judging by the way she enchanted Julie and Harry, but for that to happen, the Irish angel had been through all sorts of privations. And anyone, either human or angel, would feel great sadness to know that a loved one was suffering.
Andrew wished he was the one to be so exposed like this. He also wished to be there and protect her, even though he knew that there was a reason for them to work separately. His protectiveness towards the little angel who had left a permanent imprint in his heart would last for the centuries to come.
X
Some time later, the tray with food he had brought Monica was empty, and the Irish angel was smiling at him with a rather embarrassed expression on her face, "Only now I realised I didn't offer you anything..."
Chuckling and highly amused, he shook his head. "It's alright, I'll remember that the next time 'somebody' here insists I should watch the Abbot and Costello's collection!"
Her giggling was like music to his ears. She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it, and then inched closer to brush a loving kiss on his cheek, "Thank you for taking such a good care of me, again, Andrew. I love you very much, you know?"
He took her hand to his lips and then let it go to wrap an arm around her small shoulders, bringing her closer to him, "My precious angel... I love you forever..." he said, bending his head and kissing her lips softly and for a long, peaceful moment. Andrew cupped her cheek in his hand, caressing her soft skin with his thumb as she tilted her head and their loving kiss continued. That loving caress turned into smaller but equally loving kisses on her lips and then Andrew held her tightly, kissing the top of her head repeatedly.
"You're my Heaven, you know that, Andrew?" she said, in a low voice and closing her eyes, concentrating on his steady heartbeats.
He smiled and dared to tighten the hold around her a bit more. "So are you to me, angel..."
They spent some time wrapped up in each other's embrace and when Andrew took the tray and rose to his feet, Monica remembered something else. "Erm... Andrew... I was wondering if perhaps I could have some Decaff mocha now..."
With a mock stern expression on his face, he rolled his eyes and looked at her. "I'll see what I can do, Monica, but remember that Tess is picking on your 'love for coffee' again!"
"You're right..." she frowned, but then smiled again, "...but there's 'someone' who enchants her so much that she even forgets about my coffee almost immediately..."
He also smiled and nodded his head, "You're right! That little angel can melt even the sternest of the angels, and I can tell you she has Tess wrapped up in her little finger!" he said, and after he kissed her lips once again, the blond angel left the room.
It took Andrew around five minutes to come back, now carrying a mug filled with Monica's favourite drink. But as he entered the bedroom, an image caused him to step softer on the floor and a smile to appear on his face: the Irish angel had fallen asleep while waiting for her mocha. Shaking his head, he placed the mug on the beside table and quietly climbed up in bed, lying right next to her. Carefully, the angel brought her closer to him, even though it wasn't necessary - even in her sleep, Monica could feel his loving presence and slowly abandoned her pillow to rest her head over his chest. "Rest now, my beautiful angel... Because there's a surprise for you tonight..."
X
When Monica awoke from her afternoon "nap" it was already night. With confusion clouding over her face, the first thing she noticed was that Andrew wasn't anywhere around. She looked at the window and saw that snow had ceased but the sky was totally dark and another glance at the clock set on a chest of drawers confirmed the time: it was almost 8 o'clock.
A sad thought crossed her mind as she slowly sat down in bed: what if Andrew had been called on an assignment? They hadn't talked about it but she was almost sure they would spend Thanksgiving together and even dared to dream of Tess and her little Angela joining them on that special night. But now she realised her dream wouldn't happen anytime soon. The apartment seemed empty and now all that was left to her was to wait for a call to start a new assignment.
Sighing deeply, she pulled the blanket away and climbed off the bed. She was about to leave the room when she saw there were ladies' clothes over a chair, on the corner of the bedroom. A beautiful and warm lilac sweater, a pair of warm blue jeans, woollen socks and, even though she wouldn't have asked for them, a pair of ladies' shoes.
Giggling, she made a mental note to kiss Andrew one more time for that small present and then she replaced the robe she was wearing - and which was extremely large in her as it belonged to the blond angel, for the lovely clothes he had bought her.
And when Monica finally left the bedroom, she just had to give a few steps before another surprise caught her eyes. On the dining room, a beautiful dinner table was set, with candles lit up and a beautiful towel spread over it. Turkey, mashed potatoes, wine and the other typical Thanksgiving food were served and everything smelled delicious.
And on the following second, Andrew entered the room, followed by their dearest friend Tess, who was carrying another little angel in her arms. Monica covered her mouth and immediate tears filled her eyes as she saw them.
"Tess... Andrew... I..." she tried to speak, but words failed her.
"I swear to you that our little angel here also helped with the choice of the Thanksgiving decoration and food!" Andrew joked, and Tess nodded her head with a smile. "Oh, definitely, this little one here is a really smart angel!"
The Irish angel crossed the small distance between them and gathered her little daughter in her arms. "Oh, wee one! Mommy missed you so much, angel!" she said, kissing the little girl's cheek. Tess and Andrew exchanged a happy look as they were all finally together again.
Angela's sparkling green eyes reached for her mom's ones and then she raised her chubby little arm to grab Monica's hair. Her toothless smile and the baby sounds she emitted caused the angel to sob and laugh at the same time, "I know you missed your mommy too, honey, I know..." she said, their faces just a few inches from each other, and she rubbed her daughter's little nose with hers, laughing at the way Angela smiled even more at her.
"That angel girl is quite a talkative one, you know? I wonder where she got that from!" Tess exclaimed and Monica turned around to hold her dear supervisor tightly. "I missed you too, Tess... Thank you for taking such good care of our wee one..."
"And since when do you have to thank me for that?!" she mumbled, even though she was as happy as Monica.
Fresh tears fell down the Irish angel's face. "I missed us all together like this..."
The old supervisor's face softened, and she returned that warm embrace, holding Monica as if holding a daughter. "I missed you too, angel girl. Being with you three are the best thanksgiving blessing I could ever ask for!" she confessed, fighting back the tears that also threatened to fall from her dark eyes at any moment.
Smiling broadly, Andrew opened up his long arms and held them all, kissing the top of Monica's and Tess' head. "I guess there are four very grateful and blessed angels here and who will have a great Thanksgiving night!"
Angela's baby laughter caused them to laugh too, and the blond angel caressed his daughter's auburn hair and kissed her rosy cheek. He didn't miss the little dimples that were forming on each side of her face and underneath her chin, features that she had certainly inherited from her mother. "Yeah, your first Thanksgiving, my little angel!"
"The first of many!" Monica added.
The angels’ Thanksgiving dinner was a happy one, with a lot of chatting, laugher, delicious food, and, most importantly, with much love and uncountable blessings for which they would be eternally grateful for.
X
To be continued