JABB 316- "To Be With You"- JABB's annual Christmas story

"Do I look any older to you?" Andrew asked as he came to stand beside Yva.

She started, surprised that he'd say such a thing just as she'd been envisioning the future. "Huh? Why? No."

Andrew chuckled. "I was just asking because, as you may have noticed, a moment ago my hair was silver streaked. I hope I got all the tinsel out. But you seem startled, Yva. Are you all right there?" he asked, all concern.

Yva nodded effusively. "Of course, Andrew. And, yes, you got all the tinsel out. But when you came over, I was imagining the future so it was a little alarming when you said that."

"I hope it was a good future."

"Oh, yes. Very good. I'd found my place on earth but I could still come back here and feel at home and know I had friends."

"You always will," Andrew assured. "I, for one, am counting on it."

"Because you'll need someone to keep you fed," Lady Beth teased as she approached.

Andrew shook his head. "While I might very much enjoy all the culinary delights I've been introduced to here... you could all be awful cooks and I'd still love being around you." He looked fondly at the two women. "I'd just bring food with me," the angel added as an afterthought.

Lady Beth laughed. "Well, that's certainly nice to hear but you won't ever need to worry about bringing your own food unless you want to."

"We'd never let you starve, Andrewkins," Yva added.

"Or be lonely. It's hard to be lonely when there are always friends dropping in... even sometimes when I'm on assignment. That's meant a lot to me, you know. I'm incredibly blessed." Andrew hugged them both, feeling very proud.

Yva smiled at him. "We all are. But now I think I'm done picking carols so I'm going to go help some more with the decorating. How about you two?"

"Sure," Andrew readily agreed. "Lady Beth?"

Something in Andrew's heartfelt statement about not feeling lonely had deeply affected Lady Beth. He spoke the truth. In recent years, the Father had seen fit to occasionally allow the Dyelanders to help Andrew on assignments. Though this sometimes caused the angel some consternation, they all knew that Andrew felt better having them with him at the more difficult moments. They'd each done their best to impress upon him how much they truly wanted to be of help to him. Lady Beth very much hoped to have further opportunities in the future. As Andrew stood waiting for her, she began to think of all the future chances she might have not simply to be his friend when times were good but to work alongside him when there were challenges.

"Lady Beth?" the angel repeated, setting a hand on her arm.

"I'll be right there. I just need a few moments to think is all," she assured.

"All right. We'll be right over by the tree... waiting for you," Andrew promised.

Lady Beth squeezed his hand then let him go.

As Andrew and Yva walked away, Lady Beth looked out the window as a glistening snow fell and imagined her future.

The day was a typical winter day a number of years in the future. Lady Beth had a fire going as well as candles flickering in a couple of locations while she had a pot of homemade tomato sauce and meatballs cooking on the stove. As she went to wash her hands, the familiar tingle of an angel’s presence went over her.

“I thought you were on assignment,” she commented as she turned toward Andrew as he stood in the entry taking off his jacket.

“So the feeling has gotten stronger over the years. I guess none of us will be able to sneak up on you anymore,” quipped Andrew.

“I’m sure there will be times any of you will be able to come in unnoticed. But seriously, what’s wrong? It’s not common for you to show up in the middle of an assignment.”

“Lady Beth, I need your help with something. My assignment is a family that consists of a mother and her two sons aged 11 and 8. They’re great people and are just getting by. Both sons have expressed the desire to read more and the oldest also wants to cook but was ashamed to admit it to me. Apparently, when the father was still in the picture, he made it seem that it was an insult for a man to cook since cooking is a woman’s job. Now that he’s gone, the son really wants to learn so he can help out his mother. They can’t afford many books let alone cooking classes but I have a couple of ideas. I just want to know if I’m going in the right direction with those ideas.”

“First thing you do is to teach both boys how to make a couple of the easy things that I’ve shown you. Take them both grocery shopping and get them into the kitchen to help with everything. In my opinion, it’s good for a boy to learn to cook so when he leaves home, he’s self-sufficient. Having the younger son help out will also show him that it’s okay to cook and he doesn’t need to think otherwise. Also create a binder or something with all of the recipes you know so they have something to refer to.”

Andrew nodded, his face brightening. "I like what you’re saying. It could work out well.”

“One thing you do have to emphasize though is that they can’t cook without an adult present. You can be there now but you’ll have to talk to the mother about it so she’s aware of what’s going on.”

“Good call. I never thought of that,” commented Andrew.

“Also teach the mother that there are ways of making healthy and delicious meals on a limited budget. She should feel like she’s part of it, as well,” added Lady Beth.

“True enough. It could be a way for the 3 of them to bond and become closer. Now what can I do in regards to getting them books?” asked Andrew.

“Simple. Do they live close to a library? That way they can all get library cards and take out books that they’ll enjoy including more cooking books. Going to the library can be made into a family affair, as well.”

“Come to think of it, I do believe that they live a block away from the main library. How come I never thought of that?” Andrew said as he chuckled.

“It’s because I’m the bright one,” joked Lady Beth.

Andrew groaned at the remark, knowing that he’d never live that one down.

Just then, Lady Beth looked up and glanced over at the door.

“Is someone coming?” asked Andrew as he rose from his chair just in case his help was needed.

“It’s nothing serious,” Lady Beth said as Henry walked in from the cold.

“I do believe we’ve got our own version of the Twilight Zone here,” Andrew commented just before a tea towel was thrown at him.

“Let me guess, her spidey senses are at it again,” joked Henry for which he received a glare from Lady Beth.

They all broke out laughing at what had just gone on.

“I think I’ve been around all of you angels for too long," the woman kidded. "Mind you, I like it so I’m not complaining.”

Andrew said, “We like being around everyone here.”

“Especially when there’s something cooking on the stove,” added Henry.

They talked for a bit before Andrew got up to leave.

“Thanks for the advice. It was pretty much what I was thinking and more. See you soon.” He hugged his two friends before heading out the door and back to his assignment.

After Andrew’s departure, Henry and Lady Beth talked for some time until the early evening.

"Wow, if I come across one more spaced out person, I'm going to accuse JenniAnn of putting something in the punch."

Lady Beth whirled around to find Henry studying her. "Let's not accuse JenniAnn of anything. Even if she did spike the punch, it'd only be with chai or something. And that doesn't cause people to space out. Christmas just makes everyone a little contemplative, I think. At least it does us deep people."

Henry laughed. "Is that so? Well, my deep-thinking friend, how about you come help decorate? There's a lot to be done before we get to our individual ornaments. You ready? Because I can wait if you have more deep thoughts to think." He jumped back after being playfully whacked with the end of Lady Beth's scarf.

"No, I think decorating the tree sounds great. C'mon."

Grinning, Henry followed Lady Beth over to the tree. As he walked, he glimpsed a sobering scene out of the corner of his eye. A small cluster of Dyelanders had stepped away from the main group. Solemnly, Andrew handed Josef an ornament fashioned out of a silk poinsettia. JenniAnn pressed some hearts formed of Celtic knotwork into Vincent's hands before taking Eli's hand and walking with him to the tree where he placed a peace sign on a branch. Andrew followed, hanging a small assortment of ornaments. These decorations were special, emblems both of hope and sadness. They represented a wife-to-be gone too soon, beloved parents, an inspiring godmother, and treasured assignments who left the world under circumstances not of the Father's choosing. Sarah, Lor, Cora, Sophia, Dawn, Maggie, and Ryan. Their ornaments were reminders that the dead are never truly gone, even when being without them can bring so much pain.

For a moment, Henry's bravado faltered as he imagined future Christmases when more and more ornaments would be hung by those left behind. His eons of work as an angel, especially his current stint as an angel of death, had made him a realist. But he was a hopeful realist. When he imagined the future, it was as he thought it would likely be. But for all it's sadness, there would most certainly be hope and the remembrance of love.

The night was crisp and cool with a full moon as the fluffy snow continued to fall gracefully from the sky. It was a perfect evening for this time of year, Henry mused, as he continued strolling through the park. At one point he stopped, turned his head upwards, closed his eyes and just let the joy envelope him and make him feel good about what he'd done and ready for further assignments. It wasn’t long before he was joined by someone who felt the same way he did.

“It’s definitely a perfect night for this time of year,” mentioned Andrew as he approached Henry.

“I couldn’t have said it better. To have the snow falling tonight is like putting icing on a cake. It truly makes me feel humble,” answered Henry.

“You got that right especially in regards to the feeling humble part. Nothing else makes me feel this way and that’ll never change.”

“I do have to admit that being here in Dyeland makes it special, as well. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else since being with family and friends are important over the Christmas holiday,” said Henry as a look of fondness came over his face. “Even though the residents now are the descendants of the original residents who were first here, they still hold a special place in my heart.”

“That’s something I’ll agree on 100%. It feels more homey with them here and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” replied Andrew.

Henry pulled his watch from his pocket to check the time. “What do you say we make our way to the church to see if they need any help with the final preparations for midnight Mass?”

“Sounds like a good idea. I do know we’ll have the ritual hot chocolate and baked goods afterwards which is always a nice thing.”

“I wonder what our local cook/baker has in store for tomorrow’s meal?” chuckled Henry.

“It’ll be a delicious surprise as usual,” Andrew said as he licked his mouth.

The two angels made their way to the church knowing that the special feeling of the night would never be forgotten.

Henry sighed. True, there would be Christmases to come when he wouldn't be surrounded by the people with him in that moment. But it was assuring to realize that he, Andrew, and the other angels of death would always have friends in Dyeland. And Henry thoroughly believed that would be the case. New generations would be born or adopted into Dyeland.

Perhaps sooner rather than later...

He stifled a laugh when he noticed JenniAnn, clearly recovered from the memorial ornament ceremony, looking rather swoonily at Andrew who had lifted Shelby onto his shoulders so she could reach high branches.

"You want me to get the Andrewcam so you can remember it always?" the bespectacled angel of death offered as he approached her.

JenniAnn blushed. "Well, he's just..."

Henry affectionately patted her shoulder. "I know. I mean... I don't know... know. But I get it."

JenniAnn hugged him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. But just a hint." He leaned in and whispered. "You'd look less obvious if you were hanging ornaments, too."

JenniAnn blushed more deeply but smiled gratefully at Henry. As she went over to the tables to collect some ornaments, she kept glancing over at her student and the much-loved angel of death. The little girl was excitedly telling Andrew of some recent adventure. He smiled and asked her several questions then looked over her head to JenniAnn. Andrew's smile grew wider and even with the distance between them, JenniAnn could see the sparkle in his eyes. The tenderness and love in them made her want to approach but she knew it was Shelby's time with Andrew. Besides, she was enjoying the sight of him doting on the child. It reminded her of long held daydreams.

"Psyche?"

JenniAnn snapped back to reality when she felt her godfather gently enfold her in his arms.

"Why are you crying, child?"

"I... oh..." JenniAnn wasn't entirely sure how to explain herself. Vincent had long held a front row seat to the drama that was her falling for Andrew and, thus, was past being shocked. Still, she wasn't exactly eager to tell him what she'd just been imagining. "Happy crying. Just thinking of all the good times to come." She smiled as she remembered the two little kids with their ever-amazing uncle. Becoming giddy, she blurted out a request without giving it any thought. "Hey, when I have kids... since I won't have a husband... would you and Catherine be their second set of grandparents?"

Vincent stepped back to study her. He noted that she was quite serious. "Psyche, yes. Of course. I would be honored and I have no doubt Catherine would feel the same. We would be over-joyed but... why has this come up now?"

JenniAnn shrugged. "Just, ya know, the Dickens thing. We just... well, we had our remembrance of the past so I guess I wanted a bit of the future. And having you and Catherine a part of my children's lives just as you were part of mine growing up... that would be part of my ideal future. So..." She reached up to hug his neck and kiss his cheek before sprinting off to help Rose and her aunt untangle a strand of garland.

Vincent remained perplexed. It was in that state that his wife approached, hand in hand with their son.

"Papa, look. A snowflake."

Vincent smiled as he accepted the ornament. "Jacob, this is the most exquisite snowflake I have ever set eyes upon," he praised.

The little boy beamed then dashed back off to the craft table.

Catherine laughed. "We may just have to leave him here overnight, Vincent. I couldn't even coax him away with cocoa. I think we have a little artist on our hands." She grabbed Vincent's hand and held the snowflake up. "Truly. Look at the detail."

Vincent examined the perfectly symmetrical curlicues that made up the snowflake. "Surely you helped him."

Catherine shook her head. "I handed him the pen and the paper after I'd cut the shape out. But otherwise... no. Owen's been saying for a while that the kid's got an artistic spark."

"An artist..." Vincent murmured as he proudly eyed his son.

Vincent stood in front of the screen, anxiously waiting. After a few moments, it blinked to life and showed a bustling art gallery. A second later, a familiar voice could be heard.

"Can you hear me, Vincent?" Andrew asked.

"Yes," he responded. "Very well."

"Great. Well, we're about ten minutes from the unveiling," the unseen angel explained. "Wait, here's someone who you'll want to speak to."

Vincent chuckled as he saw only Andrew's hand in front of the camera, enthusiastically waving someone over.

"It's on. Come say 'hi,'" Andrew called to the as-yet-unseen subject.

Vincent's face lit up as his wife stepped into view. Even at seventy, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. "C-catherine," he greeted, his voice catching in his throat.

"Yes, my love. I wish you could be here and hear all the things people are saying about our boy. But at least Andrew's set up the next best thing." Catherine smiled warmly at the cameraman.

"It's my pleasure," the angel humbly responded. "So, Catherine, how's our artist doing?"

She laughed. "He kicked me out of the back room because I wouldn't stop fussing over his hair. But he's well. Anxious. Very glad to know his father will be seeing his first gallery showing."

Vincent wiped at a tear. He was so immensely proud of his child's accomplishments and the way in which he'd found a place for himself in the world Above without losing touch with his home Below. He was truly the child of both worlds that he and Catherine had long dreamed of.

"Vincent, would you like me to check in with Jacob so you can say a few things?" Andrew offered. "I promise not to touch his hair so I think he'll let me enter."

Vincent brightened at the idea of being able to speak to his son on his big night. "Yes, please, Andrew."

The image on the screen became jumpy as Andrew wound his way through the crowd, briefly spoke to a security guard, and with Catherine at his side entered a back room.

Jacob sat at a table, wildly drawing.

For a moment, Vincent saw the little boy who turned to his crayons whenever he was frustrated or nervous. He longed to set a fatherly hand on his shoulder and assure him everything would be well. "Jacob?" he called. "How are you doing, my son?"

The man spun around, the tension easing out of his face as he heard his father's voice. "Papa..." he murmured, peering at the camera.

"Jacob, Andrew's recording this for your father. I told you he was working on a surprise," Catherine explained.

The artist smiled at the angel then immediately turned back to the camera. "Papa, I wish you were here. There are so many people and what if... what if they don't like what I've done? Maybe I should have picked different pieces." He leaned into his mother's embrace. "I just... I want them to see... I want them to look at my paintings and see the love and the hope and the truth I grew up with. I want them... I want them to see you."

"Jacob..." Vincent called, reaching out to the screen before drawing his hand back. He felt better when the image panned down for a moment and he saw Andrew reassuringly squeeze Jacob's shoulder. He felt blessed to have such a friend standing in where he could not.

"You know, Jacob," Andrew began, "artists... well, they can be a lot like angels. Bringing much-needed messages and inspiration. And there's one thing every angel needs to remember."

"God loves us?" Jacob asked as some color began to return to his face.

"Definitely that. But something else, too. 'Fear not!'"

The artist smiled. "You hear that, Papa? Andrew says I'm like an angel. You believe it?"

Vincent chuckled. "Perhaps... but only at times," he teased gently as Jacob's smile grew.

There was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Wells, you're expected in the main gallery in three minutes," a voice called.

The color again drained from Jacob's face.

"Sweetheart, you'll do fine," Catherine assured, kissing his hair. "And we're all here for you. Aunt Yva's out there. And Psyche and your cousins and so many other friends."

"Papa?" Jacob cried, looking up to the camera.

"I'm with you, as well, my son," Vincent assured. "Jacob, ever since you were a little boy, people have been touched by your work and the messages it brings them. I am so very proud of you and I know your mother is, too. We all are. You are our emissary to the world, Jacob. You will bring the values we hold dear to those who need to know that kindness, loyalty, and beauty still exist. You have worked so very hard to create, to inspire. But tonight... tonight the work of touching hearts beyond our little community begins. I know you are up to the task. I know you will face it bravely. I love you, Jacob."

"I love you, Papa," the young man echoed back.

Vincent watched, feeling as if his heart would burst with pride, as his son stood and exited the little room with Catherine at his side.

Andrew dutifully followed, capturing everything for Vincent.

Thunderous applause broke out as the young artist entered the gallery, knowing that his father was experiencing each moment with him.

Rose's face shone as a gentle squeeze of her shoulder brought her out of her reverie.

Andrew was surprised when she spun around and gave him a bear hug. He chuckled. "Well, that was well worth coming over here to tell you that we're getting ready to hang our ornaments. Thanks."

"No problem, Amish Boy," Rose responded as Andrew led her back to the group.

Once there, Andrew was gently pushed to the center of the crowd.

"You're doing the toast," JenniAnn informed him as she handed him a champagne flute filled with ginger ale.

"But you're the hostess," he protested.

"And you're Andrew."

The angel chuckled. "Oh, okay. Well, then that settles it. If my name was George, would someone else give the toast?"

"No. And you are my George Bailey," JenniAnn reminded, eyes twinkling.

Andrew blushed and, when he'd recovered, raised his glass. The crowd hushed. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I think it's great that we could all find the time to celebrate together, to share a meal, and to have some fun. You know, earlier I was talking about how Christmas is a good time to remember our pasts and look forward to the future. And when I look back on my past... well, first of all, that involves looking back a very, very long time... how long I'm not about to say."

Rose gave a theatrical sigh causing the others to laugh.

Andrew smiled at her then continued. "When I look back on my more recent past, I thank the Father for bringing me here to Dyeland. This is my eleventh Christmas here and each one has meant more than the last. Each has brought new friends our way and they've brought old friends back."

Monica smiled and leaned into Tess' embrace as she caught Andrew's gaze.

"I don't know what Christmas Future will bring," the angel of death added. "But I know they're all in God's hands." He turned to the tree. "Last Christmas, when we were preparing for that decorating party, I told Laja that this tree reminds me of God's love. It's a love that holds the friendships, families, and romances represented in this room together just as this tree will soon hold the ornaments that represent each of us together. This Christmas, I'm praying that we all always remember that. Cheers, my friends."

The room resounded with the clinking of glasses as everyone toasted.

"And now... the ornaments!" Andrew called out.

The merry group surrounded the tree, each hanging the ornament that represented them. When they were finished, they stepped back to admire the completed tree.

"It's beautiful," Yva murmured. "And it makes me think of what you said, Andrewkins."

Andrew smiled back at her but before he could respond, he felt a tug at his sleeve. "And how can I help you?" he asked the Tunnel children clustered around him.

"We know everyone's planning on singing carols now but..." Shelby began.

"Can we play in the snow first? It's the perfect type of snow for a snowball fight," her brother, Asher, finished.

"You know, I think that can be arranged," Andrew responded, liking the prospect of a snowball fight himself. "Who's up for a pre-caroling snow ball fight?" he called.

Everyone dashed into the hall to retrieve their coats and ran into the yard.

"Andrew! Your lights look even more amazing now that it's darker!" C.J. called.

"Pretty cool," Mick agreed.

The entire group paused for a few moments to admire the display.

Andrew beamed, overjoyed that they appreciated what he'd done for them. He was still basking in the warm glow of a job well received when he felt a sudden pressure in between his shoulders. He spun around to see Henry laughing with traces of snow on his glove. "It's on now, buddy!" he cried as he formed a snowball and launched it back at Henry.

The yard was filled with gleeful shrieks as an all-out snowball war began.

Though a mean snowball-thrower, Andrew was soon driven back. He sought shelter behind some bushes near the castle and began to stockpile snowballs. As he stood to peek over the bush and get a good idea of where his opponents were stationed, the angel caught a glimpse of the Christmas tree through the window. He was transfixed, remembering what the Father had shown him that previous year. For a few moments, snowballs were forgotten as the angel of death once again considered the future.

Andrew sat on a couch near the fireplace, readying his camera, and smiled at the scene before him. It was chaos. But beautiful chaos.

Laughing, Yva plopped down beside him. "Hard to believe these Christmases have gotten even crazier! But I love them even better. They make planning Christmas services seem downright relaxing," she joked.

Andrew hugged her. "And they're beautiful services. You've done a great job as a minister, Yva. But then I always knew you would."

The woman hugged him back. "You helped me find the courage to pursue that dream, Andrew. Thank you. I hope your own dreams come true."

The angel smiled as he took in the scene before him. "Every day, Yva. Every day," he responded softly. But then he burst into laughter as a little boy streaked across the room with half of a suit on.

Beth dashed after him. "Michael Turner St. John! Come back to mommy. We just want one picture of you and your brother with the other kids and Santa."

Mick grabbed his son just as he was about to careen into the Christmas tree. "Whoa there, buddy." He deftly fixed the little boy's outfit. "Don't you want to see Santa?"

Yva leaned nearer to Andrew. "I'm so glad Adam's been able to keep that Santa gig. You know he loves it."

Andrew nodded. "And the kids do, too. Just maybe not so much velvet suits and ties."

The two laughed as a stubborn Michael finally relented and took a seat beside his brother, Joe.

"I think maybe I'll go entertain the kids with some carols while we wait," Yva excused herself. "Poor Monica's been reading stories for a while and probably needs to rest her voice."

Andrew watched as Rose settled her two children into the group while JenniAnn did the same with her own and some young students. The former approached him after her children were situated.

Rose greeted the angel of death with a laugh. "Who would have thought, so many years after some of us first saw him playing Santa at that party supply store, that Adam would still be at it?" she whispered.

Andrew smiled. "Oh, I think the Father knew after that first time that Adam had fallen in love with the gig. I doubt He'll ever take it away from him now. He'll still be wearing that red suit when Landon's and Amelia's kids are ready for a visit to Santa."

"You think?" Rose asked, looking over at the children hopefully.

The angel of death nodded. "Yeah." His smile grew as Yva led the children in "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" while Tess played along on the piano. "I'm glad we still have this time together," he commented, putting an arm around Rose's shoulders.

"Me too. I'm glad my family has a place in Dyeland. I couldn't imagine raising the kids without this place being a part of their childhood. After all, you all kind of helped raise me. At least during the last couple years of my adolescence."

Andrew looked proudly at the young woman. "I think we did a really great job," he complimented.

Rose smiled and hugged him.

"You better get over there. I think I hear sleigh bells," he warned.

Rose grinned like a child herself then dashed back over to her husband to be near their kids when they had their time with Santa.

A few moments later, amid the sound of sleigh bells and accompanied by his loyal elves, Sparkles and Sprinkles aka Shelby and Jacob, Santa entered the room. He was immediately mobbed by excited children.

Andrew leapt up from the couch and began filming. He smiled as each child met with Santa whose silver-blue eyes sparkled with each 'I love you, too, Santa' that was bestowed on him. He was touched also by the looks of pride on his friends' faces as their children and nieces and nephews settled onto Adam's lap for a chat.

Once Santa had returned to the North Pole and Adam reappeared, feigning disappointment for once again missing the toymaker as he did every year, the decorating party began. With his camera tucked away, Andrew gave himself a few moments to stand back, study his friends, and thank God for the great things He had done in their lives.

Adam, as was obvious, had maintained his seasonal stint as Santa Claus as well as becoming a supervisor to other angels. His ready wit mixed with his warm heart had guided several new angels of death through the sometimes difficult early days of that gig.

Eli, too, had been entrusted with supervising duties in recent years. But Andrew chuckled as he thought of how the angel of death still managed to find time to comb Ronald's archives and find the most embarrassing moments of his angelic career so he could leak them to JenniAnn.

Tess continued to work cases on her own and with an assortment of other angels, sometimes stepping in as a supervisor when needed. The number of her "angel babies" had grown. And yet there remained a special spot in her heart for Andrew. When the effects of his decision to age alongside his human friends had first become apparent, Andrew had joked to her that one day it would seem silly for her to call him, as his boyish looks faded, "Angel Boy." Tess had adamantly shook her head, pulled him into one of those immense hugs he so loved, and assured him "You'll always be my Angel Boy, Andrew." And he knew it was true.

There was Monica, several years into her solo stint as a supervising caseworker. By all accounts she was doing amazing work. And yet she had never again drifted away from him but had instead regularly checked in with both him and Tess, making sure they knew that she carried the lessons she'd learned from them with her on every assignment.

Yva, too, was delivering the message of God's love to others. And very happily if her earlier conversation with Andrew was any hint. She and Sir Sven had successfully bridged their Dyeland and earthly lives. The angel of death knew it meant so much to everyone, Nigel and Willy included, that they made a point to check in no matter how busy.

As for Nigel, he was happily continuing his work as one of God's messengers in Victorian England. However, the guardian angel had become increasingly comfortable in the ever-changing modern world which never ceased to amaze him.

Willy, too, had experienced some changes. He remained every bit the hard-working, creative, contemplative man he'd always been. But it seemed to Andrew that he had found peace with at least some of the questions that had tendency to trouble him.

And then there was the St. John family... Andrew sighed as he thought back on how tumultuous Mick's and Beth's path had been. But in recent years their dreams had come true and they had two adorable sons to show for it.

Thinking of the St. John boys, Andrew's thoughts turned to the absentee Josef who was the eldest' s namesake. His happily-ever-after hadn't come. But the vampire was making the most of his long life. It had become a testament to the love he still bore for his Sarah. Josef's charity would soon be a decade old and its founder had spent countless hours doing what he was doing at that moment, freeing people from bondage and helping them to build new lives of freedom and dignity.

Andrew chuckled as his thoughts drifted to the last of the Los Angeles clan: Logan. His story had taken an interesting turn only the week before when a worried Mick had burst into his basement and found a note which simply read: "Proposed to Zelda. She said YES!!! Took the cure. We're going to Las Vegas to get married by Obi Wan!!!!! Be back after the new year. Live long (but not freakishly long) and prosper. -L."

And that had only be the most recent in a succession of romances. Andrew beamed as Rose and her husband each lifted one of their children so they could place their ornaments on higher branches. Then the couple stepped back, embraced each other, and watched as the little ones stood in awe of the tree. Andrew thought back on the teenager he'd first met, the girl who had blushed as she'd once told him that if she ever had kids she's already chosen their names: Landon and Amelia. Now her dreams were reality and their Uncle Andrew was very glad for it.

There were the couples who had stood the test of time, too. Among them were Sir Sven and Yva and Catherine and Vincent. Together for nearly forty years, the Wellses' love for each other was evident to the lucky few who were able to glimpse them. It was a love that Andrew knew strengthened and inspired their son and helped Vincent as he led the Tunnel Council, promoting the values and utopic way of life that his father had instilled in him.

The Council itself was now populated by some of the grown children and young people who Andrew had first met. Owen, Amy, Hareton, Gary, and Jessie now worked alongside Vincent and the older members but their youth made their opinions no less valued. It was a happy, peaceful time for everyone Below.

Andrew's attention turned to Vincent's godchild. Over the years he had come to recognize that Catherine's and Vincent's great love had struck JenniAnn to the core and helped her to, in time, fully embrace a life and a love that was far from standard. And so, several years after their fateful meeting in the Fields of Gold, JenniAnn remained devoted to him. And, in spite of that, she had twice become a mother; giving Andrew his beloved niece and nephew: Annabel and Avi.

Andrew heard C.J. laugh, a most welcome noise. After years of having to rush around, she had finally come to a peaceful, relaxing place and was enjoying more time on Harmonic Hollow and Vermillion. The angel knew they both relished their now more frequent rides together and looked forward to many more.

The clinking of dishes drew Andrew's gaze to Lady Beth. Years after she first arrived in Dyeland, her delight in helping others and sharing her talents with them continued to be evident. At that very moment she was dishing up a plate for Henry who was leaving early on an assignment, doing so with greater joy now that he knew he always had friends to come back to.

And, as always, the entire community was enlivened and unconditionally loved by an odd assortment of pet turkeys, cats, dogs, horses, rabbits, and more.

This was the family that God had brought together and Andrew thanked Him daily for it. Struck anew by the immense blessings surrounding him, the angel lifted his eyes to the rafters and uttered a simple but heartfelt "Thank You, Father."

Following his prayer, Andrew was joined by JenniAnn. He sighed contentedly as she embraced him. "It's been a wonderful party, Laja."

JenniAnn beamed up at him then noticed a few stray hairs and brushed them into place behind his ear.

Andrew smiled sheepishly. "It's really graying, isn't it? I mean I knew it was going to happen but... not this quickly. What would that girl in the Fields think of me now?" he teased.

She peered up at him, all seriousness. "'The soul of all that was most dear to me is here-- here, with the worn face, and the grey
head,'" she murmured.

Andrew stared at her, recognizing the quotation and unable to place it but intensely moved by its utterance. "Laja..."

"It doesn't seem like so long ago that it was another Christmas... that year you first went all out with the lights..." She laughed. "That year you hid in that box, too, come to think of it. And Adam was teasing you about your Dickensian view of the holiday. So I decided to insert a lil Dickens of my own this year. And it's truthfully meant," JenniAnn vowed.

Andrew knew in the depths of his heart that it was. Whatever type of love his friends had ever borne for him, it had continued over the course of many years. Their love and the Father's was constantly with him as he took on his assignments, continuing to bring people the gift of eternity the Father had entrusted him with. The angel smiled at the woman at his side then looked out at all the joyful faces that surrounded him. Every inch of his being felt content.

A moment later, C.J. approached. "Uncle Andrew, I come as an emissary from the toddler set. You're being ordered to read a Christmas story."

Andrew grinned as JenniAnn laughed and released him.

"What am I reading?" he asked as he settled down on the floor among the children with the adults forming an outer circle.

"This," Avi responded, holding a familiar book out to him.

Andrew looked tenderly at his namesake as he accepted the familiar book and began to read. "'There was once a velveteen rabbit..."

Outside, a delicate snow fell and blanketed the ground. It collected around the lights covering Willowveil castle. The effect was beautiful as the snow itself took on the color of the lights beneath it. A dove settled on the windowsill and peered in at the crowd gathered around the storyteller, cooing a benediction upon them all.

Andrew was smiling giddily as he emerged from behind the bushes.

JenniAnn had her arm raised, ready to pelt him but let the snowball drop and ran to him. "Andrew, what's going on? You look... transfigured."

Seeing JenniAnn abandon the fight and dash to the angel of death; Yva, Rose, Lady Beth, and C.J. also approached.

"What's the matter?" Rose asked with alarm.

Andrew shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off his face. "I was just daydreaming."

"What exactly do angels daydream about?" Yva asked, amused by the idea.

"Love," Andrew answered simply, pulling them into a group hug.

"Aww, come on now. Can't we have something a little more specific than that?" Lady Beth pressed with a grin.

Andrew considered. His vision had been comprised of all the dreams his friends had shared with him over the years and all the ones he knew they treasured in their hearts even if they didn't say them out loud. It was their happiness that had made his own future self so happy. Still, he didn't want to reveal it all to them and have them thinking he was pulling for them to make particular life choices should their dreams change. Finally, he settled upon his answer. "I daydreamed about another Christmas, several years from now. And the most important thing about it... the thing that made me happiest... was that we were all still celebrating together."

"Aww!" a chorus of female voices responded.

Thus assured their friend was well and knowing themselves to be easy targets if they remained still, the five women parted from the angel of death and rejoined the snowball fight. When they were ready to return indoors, everyone joined together for caroling. After singing several songs, the children were tucked into their beds back in the Tunnels with visions of their visit with Santa fresh in their minds. Around 10:00, the adults gathered again in the ballroom. As they moved chairs and tables to make room for dancing, JenniAnn put a CD on.

Andrew was struck by how perfectly the lyrics matched his vision.

"We gather by the fire,
reminiscing by its light.
The kids will be up early
but it's hard to say goodnight.
To be with you.
To be with you.
I love this time of year.
It always brings me here,
to be with you."

The angel of death was not the only one struck by the words. As Christmas Eve wore on and the dancing began, each person thought of their own ideal future. Ensconced in the cozy ballroom with so many of those who were dear to them and had figured into their dreams, they silently prayed to God that the futures they so desired would come to pass and that they would never truly be parted nor face a Christmas future without the love and friendship of the others.

Unseen by all, a dove appeared amid the highest branches of their Christmas tree, the tree that Andrew had come to see as a symbol of the Father's love. The dove's presence was proof that, though the Dyelanders' futures might not unfold exactly as they planned, they would unfold as God planned. And it was His plan that the ragtag family He had joined together would always remain exactly that for every Christmas and every day to come no matter where the journey of life took them.

The End

Cultural references (holiday and otherwise... hopefully I didn't miss any):
"To Be With You" by Sara Groves, both the title and the closing lyrics come from her beautiful song.
"Once Upon a Dream" from Disney's Sleeping Beauty
"All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
"Christmas Crackers" by Juliana Horatia Ewing
The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
The Sound of Music
The Twilight Zone
Spiderman
"Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus" by Virginia O'Hanlon and Francis P. Church
The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
Star Wars
It's a Wonderful Life
"Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clark Moore
"Jolly Old St. Nicholas"
Star Trek
Cricket on the Hearth by Charles Dickens

Finally, another JABB Christmas tradition is that I make a donation in the group's honor. Typically, I choose a charity that somehow relates to the Christmas story. However, this year there were no easy associations. (Alas, a time-traveling charity does not seem to exist nor does a "Keep an AOD Happy, Buy Him Some Christmas Lights" one.) So, since I used them as a source for "Safe" which was the previous story and because this did contain a couple brief references to those characters, I've made a donation to RAINN because they do great work.

Merry Christmas and happy New Year!

God bless,
Jenni

JABB TOC

JABB 317

(Photo Credits: The photographs used on this page are from "Touched by an Angel" and owned by CBS Productions, Caroline Productions, and Moon Water Productions. They are not being used to seek profit.)