As Celeste hurries back to her station, her white robes flowing gracefully behind her, I settle my headset back in place, its soft glow reactivating. The incoming call connects, and I take a deep breath, pushing my worries about Bailey to the back of my mind.
“Blessings Hotline, this is Gladys.”
I throw myself into my work, knowing that every blessing granted here ripples out into the world, touching lives in ways we may never fully understand.
The voice on the other end belongs to a guardian angel I’ve worked with before, one assigned to a family going through a difficult time. As I listen to the complex situation—a father losing his job right before Christmas, a mother struggling with depression, and children caught in the middle—I close my eyes and send them love.
“I understand,” I say softly, my fingers already moving across the keyboard. “Let’s see what we can do to bring some light into their lives. How about a two-for-one special? We’ll throw in some job opportunities for dad, a dash of emotional support for mom, and for the kids... how about a touch of holiday joy? And if that doesn’t work, there’s always the classic ‘mysterious benefactor’ route. Nothing says Christmas miracle like an anonymous check in the mail, right?”
As I work, coordinating with other departments to arrange for the blessings to be delivered, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. This is why I do what I do, why I’ve worked so hard to become a guardian angel. Even if it sometimes feels like herding cats, they are very stubborn, human-shaped cats.
I glance at the clock floating above the call center. My shift is almost over, and soon I’ll be heading back to Earth to continue my work with Bailey. The thought fills me with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. It’s like preparing for a battle if the battlefield were a small town at Christmas and my weapons were good intentions.
As if on cue, another chime sounds from my station. I smile, feeling a new surge of energy as I answer the call.
“Blessing Hotline, this is Gladys. How may I help you today?”
The call center continues to buzz with activity around me, a reminder of the constant flow of love and support from heaven to Earth. As I work, I send up a silent prayer for Bailey, for Logan, and for all the souls struggling to find their way this holiday season.
Four
BAILEY
Itake a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Tonight is the official kickoff for the Christmas decorating competition.
The grand ballroom of the Historic Holly Inn buzzes with anticipation as I step through the ornate double doors. The cold December air clings to my coat as I peel it off.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, inviting glow over the polished oak floors, their light dancing off the gilded mirrors that line the walls. It’s as if I’ve stepped into a scene from a Victorian Christmas card, all elegance and timeless charm.
I clutch my purse tighter, my fingertips tracing the seams.
As I make my way to an empty chair, the air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional tinkling laugh, a soundtrack of excitement and nervous energy. This gathering is a who’s who of Benton Falls. The owners of the hotel are here, along with Mayor Evelyn Green, a reporter from the local paper, and several business owners, including the Rimerez family, Mrs. Pennington, and Pastor Daniel Robert.
I’m so caught up in taking in my surroundings that I nearly jump when a voice chirps beside me. “Oh, isn’t this exciting?”
I turn to see Gladys practically vibrating with enthusiasm. She’s wearing a navy blazer over a white blouse and a pair of fitted jeans. Her hair is down, and she pats the top of her head as if she’s looking for something up there. Maybe she had a clip-in earlier. Despite my earlier reservations about her, I’m grateful to have someone to talk to.
“Hi, Gladys,” I say, my voice softer than I intended. There’s something about her that’s oddly comforting.
She beams at me, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’m going to help you win this contest, you know. We’re going to create something so magnificent, so awe-inspiring, that they’ll have no choice but to give you that grand prize.”
I’m taken aback. Help me? How is she going to help me? Before I can ask any clarifying questions, a tinkling chime emanates from her pocket. Gladys pulls out a phone—though it looks like no phone I’ve ever seen before, all sleek and shimmery—and answers with a bright, “Blessings Hotline, this is Gladys. How can I help you?”
I blink in surprise, watching her out of the corner of my eye even as the room begins to quiet down. At the front of the ballroom, Victoria Holbrook takes the stage, her presence immediately commanding attention. She owns the Inn and is what my mamma would call a mover and a shaker. She’s also a vision of elegance.
Her raven-black hair is swept into an impeccable updo, providing a dramatic contrast to her olive complexion. Deep brown eyes, reminiscent of rich cocoa, survey the room with a mix of warmth and shrewdness. She stands at 5’7", her posture speaking of a woman accustomed to navigating both high-society galas and small-town charm with equal grace.
Her tailored burgundy dress complements her warm skin tone perfectly, and when she speaks, her melodious voice, with its slight husky quality, fills the room.
I want to be this woman. She’s not trying to intimidate anyone, she is just so incredible that my insecurities feel like they have a spotlight shining on them.
“Welcome, everyone, to the annual Holly Inn Christmas Decorating Competition,” Victoria begins. We all clap, and she pauses to smile at us. “I’m thrilled to see so many talented designers here tonight, both familiar faces and new.”
As Victoria begins to explain the rules of the competition, I try to focus, jotting down notes in my ever-present sketchbook.
“A snow day for the kids’ math test?” Gladys whispers into her phone next to me, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Well, I suppose we could arrange a small blizzard, but you know how the weather department gets when we meddle too much. How about we settle for a perfectly timed power outage instead? Much easier to explain, and the kids still get their extra study time.”
I shake my head, wondering if I’m hearing things. Blizzards? Weather department? What kind of job does Gladys have?
