PART 1

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."

x

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.