Bill didn’t argue, and wrapped himself in the angel’s gown. Reality faded to white and when it reappeared he found himself someplace different, somewhere he’d never been even though his body rested there for ten years at that moment.

The air was still cold, but Bill couldn’t feel the frigid temperature. His current condition left him immune to such things. The only clue he had that it was winter were the barren trees and the frosted grass.

“Yet another Christmas?” Bill asked as he stood close to the angel. The silent tombstones and quaint epitaphs made him nervous, as if this were the end of the line for him. He looked at the angel’s face expectantly.

“Yes,” the angel said with a cheerfulness that didn’t belong in a cemetery. “This is yet another Christmas, ten years to the day that you originally departed from the land of the living.”

“Is this where my journey ends,” Bill asked nervously. “I mean, is this where I spend forever?”

The angel put a comforting hand on the teen’s back. “Oh, no child. This is where your body has come to rest, and it must remain. But a new body awaits you in the next life, you will not remain here forever.”

Bill nodded in agreement as he was led through the well manicured lawn. He knew their destination, but was unsure if he truly wanted to see it. His feelings were irrelevant at the moment. Though he did have emotions, they all felt muffled by a layer of contentment and well being. After a short walk, they came to a stop and made a ninety degree turn at the gravesite.

The grave site was far from secluded, but had a strange sense of solitude to it. There were other headstones four feet away on either side and one directly behind his. The tombstone that Bill and the angel were looking at was a white marble that looked almost rectangular, except for a long arch that extended from the top-center. After a decade, the stone still looked new and glossy, as if it were just recently placed.

Though Bill couldn’t feel the cold, he still shivered at the sight of his own grave. He never knew a person could occupy such a place and still be aware of the fact. Yet here he was, walking across the grass as a spirit and making his way so he could read the writing more clearly. Six feet below, in an ash coffin, was his body, and though the event seemed to happen only an hour ago, Bill became aware that he was without his Earthly vessel. He took a deep breath; a few ill-advised moments of watching horror films crept in his mind and the thought of his body reaching up to reclaim its soul crossed the teens mind. Bill shook his head, realizing that he was being silly.

“Here lies William Joseph Cohen Junior,” Bill read out loud, as if for the benefit of the angel. He knew it wasn’t so, but the silence was too loud and he needed noise. “`1989 – 2005. Our beautiful child.” Bill stepped back and took the whole scene in. He turned and looked at the angel, smiling. “Our beautiful child,” he repeated, “Not son, but child, I think I like that.”

“Your parents chose the wording very carefully. They took your uniqueness very much into consideration,” the angel informed.

The teen nodded in approval. The sound of footsteps crushing the frozen grass alerted Bill that the cemetery was no longer vacant. There were two sets, one was heavy and took long strong strides, the other lighter, softer, shuffling steps that seemed in no hurry to get where they were heading. Bill turned to see who it was, though he already had some idea.

William helped his wife traverse the slick icy grass. Gail was never comfortable on such terrain , and considering where they were going, her nervousness was doubled. The couple stood at the foot of the grave site, solemnly looking at the white stone with their heads bowed. Neither said a word as they contemplated the life they knew and the opportunities never realized. After a moment, William grabbed his wife’s hand as if to signal the time for quiet was over and that the time to do and say what they came to was at hand.

Gail walked forward to the stone and placed a poinsettia in front of the stone. “Merry Christmas Bill,” she said softly, each word dripping with pain and sorrow. “Do you know it’s Christmas, or do you celebrate it every day in Heaven? We miss you so much down here still and have never stopped loving you, not even for a second.”

“I love you too,” Bill said, even though he knew his words were left unheard.

William stepped forward and placed his hand upon the top of the tombstone. “Merry Christmas Bill,” he said with a strained grin. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I’m so sorry that our last day was so horrible, that I acted so poorly. You being Sarah was so new to me, so confusing, that I didn’t know how to act. I felt that somehow I had failed you as a father, and I took the anger and frustration I felt towards myself out on you. I wish I knew how to accept who and what you were sooner; even though I think I knew all along that you were somehow different, I just couldn’t put my finger on how back then. I hope you can forgive me.” A silent tear fell to the tombstone and quickly froze. “Wherever you are, I hope you still feel my love.”

The parents lingered there for a moment of silence, and then backed away as the wind started to pick up.

Gail grabbed her husband’s arm as they backed away. “It was good that we finally came on a Christmas day,” she told him.

“Do you think by now Bill would’ve figured out who he truly was,” William asked, still not able to accept the true facts of his child’s life, wavering between belief and disbelief as often as the wind changed directions.

Gail tapped the back of her husband’s hand. “I think Sarah knew who she was long before we did.”

William nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you are absolutely one-hundred percent right.”

A few more feet down a slight decline and Bill’s parents disappeared into the family car.

Bill looked up at the angel. “I don’t know if they’ll ever really understand. I don’t even know if I will.” The teen stayed silent while the car drove away. “So where and when are we off to next?” he asked as he turned towards the grave. He knew the angel wouldn’t reply and as he was wrapped in the gown, his eyes never left the tombstone.

In an instant he was back in his house, back in the den. There was a fire going in the fireplace, and there was a small candle atop the mantel. Other then the flickering yellow flames, there were no other sources of light. Bill’s father stood before two portraits on the mantel; one of the child he lost long ago, the other of his wife. His father looked even older, the grey hair Bill saw on him a moment ago was now almost completely gone, only short hair around the side and back of his head remained.

“What happened to my mom,” Bill asked as he saw no signs of the woman he loved so dearly.

“She passed on earlier this year,” the angel explained. “It was cancer.”

Bill didn’t respond, he simply shrugged and kept his eyes father, who seemed very much alone.

William poured some champagne in his glass. He turned to the picture of his son as a small child. William raised his glass. “To my son, Merry Christmas. I lost you so long ago that it almost feels like we never met.” He quickly downed the liquid, not even taking a moment to savor it before refilling his glass.

Bill kept an intent eye on his dad, not knowing if he should be offended by the toast or not. It was true that there was constant friction between them most his life, like they couldn’t relate to each other.

William turned to the two pictures closer to the candle, those of his wife and the last portrait Bill ever had taken. He raised his glass again. “To the two women that I never could quite understand, but I loved you both with all my heart and soul; Merry Christmas, I miss you both.” He gulped down the second drink just as fast as he did the first. He then backed away from the mantel, sat in the loveseat, and wrapped himself in the pink comforter. He stared at the fireplace and replayed a lifetime of memories.

“I’m not going to see any more of his Christmases, am I?” Bill asked the angel.

“No you are not,” the angel replied. “It is time you started on your new life, apart from this one.”

“Whatever happened to the pregnant woman and the baby I saved?” Bill asked abruptly, trying to delay what he thought was the obvious.

The angel smiled. “I knew you were going to ask that. It has always been your nature to care about others. Come and see.”

The next thing Bill knew, he was back in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart, just moments after his life ended. Two ambulances were at the scene. On one stretcher a small body completely covered with a sheet was being loaded into the back of a van with blinking red lights that invaded the peaceful night sky. Sitting on the curb next to the van, the man from the wayward pickup was still crying as he relayed his account of the events to the same police officer that Bill saw tell his parents the news. The officer was standing over the driver, taking notes, and trying to offer any words of comfort that he could.

Bill wished he could say something to ease the man’s pain, tell the poor guy that he didn’t hold him at fault; that these things happened. But the teen knew his words wouldn’t be heard and might not do any good anyhow. Instead, he went by the woman’s side to see what was going on. It was she who Bill was most concerned about.

“What’s going on,” the husband asked in a panic to the paramedics that were loading his wife onto a gurney.

The paramedics stayed concentrating on the wife, who was still in tremendous pain. “I think she’s going into labor, sir,” one of them shouted out. “It doesn’t look good, a lot of blood, we got to move her now.”

The husband staggered backwards. “Labor?” he questioned. “But it’s only been seven and a half months.”

The paramedics rushed the pregnant woman into the waiting ambulance. “Sir, we are going to Joyce Medical. We’d take you, but you got your baby and things and we don’t have that much room. The doctor can explain more when you get there.” The paramedic jumped in the back of the waiting ambulance. He knew he was being short, but there was not time for anything else. The large van pulled away even before the man had time to slam the rear doors shut.

The husband stood in the middle of the parking lot in bewilderment as he watched the ambulance grow smaller and smaller as it drove towards the hospital. Once the red flashing lights faded he moved to collect his child and the things his wife purchased from the store. If they weren’t so tight on cash, he would’ve left the items where they lay, but that wasn’t something he could afford to do.

Bill looked at the angel in confusion. There didn’t seem to be any answers from what he had just seen; only more questions. He didn’t say a word to the angel though, knowing more was coming and that his curiosity would be satisfied.

The angel said nothing as well and in a moment they were gone. They arrived at the hospital just a half second later.

Even though Bill knew he couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be heard, and couldn’t interfere with objects in the natural world, his instincts told him to keep out of the way. He and the angel stood in the far corner of the room, watching the flurry of activity as the doctor and nurses tended to the pregnant woman on the table. Her husband was just outside the room, nervously peeking through the thin glass slit that served as the door’s only window. One moment he would be watching, the next he would vanish thinking he could look no more, only to return again exactly nine and a half seconds later.

“Come on, Mrs. Bennett,” the doctor coached. “I need you to push. Just one more long hard push. You can do that for me.”

The woman was crying hysterically. “It’s too soon,” she yelled as she grit her teeth in pain. “Much too soon.”

“Mrs. Bennett,” the doctor said calmly. “Your baby’s coming out one way or another tonight. The sooner she’s out, the sooner we can make sure everything’s okay with her.” The doctor felt a nurse pat the sweat off his forehead. He was paying such acute attention to the task at hand that he would even have been able to say in which direction the nurse’s hand came from. He did know, however, that a baby was coming out at thirty months was a dicey situation at best. The hospital did have a neonatal ward, but nothing near the high standard of a regional hospital.

Mrs. Bennett bore down and pushed, even though her instincts told her the baby needed another six weeks to grow in order to survive. She knew that they, whoever they were, had given her pain killers to ease her agony, but those really didn’t seem to be working very well. The horrid thought came to mind that maybe the drugs were working perfectly, and the pain her body was enduring was multiple times worse than what she was feeling. After the thought subsided and she caught her breath; Mrs. Bennett pushed once again for all her worth.

The doctor aided the baby’s head through the birth canal. The infant didn’t squirt or aid in the process in any way, shape, or form. The doctor knew he was about to give birth to a still born child. He didn’t say a word, though he hated situations such as these. He was trained to deal with such events and started a running inventory of what was to come. In a final push of blood and fluids, the baby’s head breached the mother and in the push after that, the shoulders were free. The doctor pulled the limp, blue baby from the mother.

Mrs. Bennett was looking down and saw the absence of movement coming from her new born daughter. She knew there was something terribly wrong immediately as the doctor severed the umbilical cord. “My baby,” she cried out in a new agony, more agony than she had displayed during the entire delivery. “What’s the matter with my baby? No, God, please no.”

The doctor didn’t say a word. He rushed to perform every life saving procedure that he knew. Even though he expected it for naught, his instinct and fight told him that he had to at least try.

The world around Bill came to a halt, everything was frozen on its spot and the noisy operating room grew deathly quiet in an instant. Bill looked around in confusion. The doctor was mid-stride as he was heading to what looked like a clear plastic bassinet. Mrs. Bennett’s arms stayed frozen as she reached out towards the doctor and her non-breathing infant. Her sweat drenched face was the epitome of despair and grief with a strange mix of hope that the doctor or God could do something. The monitors stopped beeping and the digital displays remained unchanged. Bill felt like he was walking inside a photograph. He cautiously stepped over to the doctor and he looked at the tiny being the doctor was holding in his hands.

The teen looked over at the angel. “It’s a girl,” he said with an odd mix of sadness and awe.

“That it is,” the angel said kindly as it walked over to the boy. “But she never had a soul,” it added somberly.

Bill looked up in deep contemplation. “So if it wasn’t for me, she’d have lost both her children tonight.”

The angel ran its fingers through Bill’s long flowing hair. “It is so. It is also because of you that this woman might have both of her children survive on the Christmas morning.”

Bill looked down at the infant. “I don’t understand. I want to help, really I do, but what can I do?”

“You can provide the baby with the soul that it needs to live and survive,” the angel stated simply/

Bill looked at the angel in confusion, he was still at a loss to how he was to accomplish such a thing.

“You laid down your life so that another may live,” the angel explained. “On this Earth, there is no greater love than which you have displayed. Because of your selfless actions, the Lord has granted you a Christmas reprieve, the opportunity to live life over in a body you may find more suitable to your liking. That is, of course, if you accept.”

Bill’s eyes returned to the baby’s face, then at the mother still reaching out towards the infant, wanting it so much to live. Even if the child’s gender wasn’t optimal, Bill wondered how he could resist such an offer.

The angel placed her hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I must warn you; at first it is not going to be easy. You are going to have to fight to hold on to the second life that God has granted you. You are going to have to display the will power that you truly belong in that body.” The angel smiled. “There is something that tells me that you will not fail. However, this current life will fade from memory until your second life is over.”

“So you already know my decision,” Bill said as he stared at his new body.

“You were known from the womb, and your life, with all of its trials and triumphs, was known to all in Heaven. This day was to come from when time began. Though the choice is yours, it has already been recorded in the Book of Life.” The angel took Bill’s hand and held it with both of its. “Fear not, neither be dismayed, for every life has its purpose and your life as Bill was not for naught. Now is the time for your new life; live it well, be happy.”

Bill smiled.

In an instant the world vanished and he felt his soul being sucked into the still, lifeless body that was being cautiously held in the doctor’s large, yet gentle hands.

Life started to move once the angel disappeared from the room. There were no reasons for it to stay; its work was already finished and the knowledge of events to come were already known to the heavenly hosts.

Before the doctor placed the baby into the plastic basinet, he felt a movement in his hands. In awe, he looked down as he saw the blue baby shivering in his palms. He rested the infant on the yellow pad of the incubator and watched as the color of life slowly entered the child’s body. Then, the joyous thing of all to be heard on Christmas day, reminiscent of why the holiday was celebrated, the baby cried, announcing to the world her entrance into it.

Mrs. Bennett collapsed on the bed and cried the tears of joy herself. Her husband outside the door fell to his knees, praising God for answering the prayer he had yet to mutter.

Knowing the infant wasn’t’ out of the woods yet, the doctor worked frantically to stabilize her condition.

Three days later, Mrs. Bennett and her husband John walked slowly towards the neonatal care unit to look in on their infant daughter. It would be the first time they looked upon the child as a couple since the delivery.

John held his wife’s hand. “I had a remarkable conversation with a young fellow who visited while you were sleeping,” he said.

“Oh really,” Eileen answered, the sound of exhaustion was evident in her voice. “And who was he?”

“He was a friend of the teen that saved Jenna’s life,” John said softly. “He just wanted to talk and let us know about some things.”

Eileen frowned. “I feel so bad. Poor girl lost her life because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We should probably call her parents and give our condolences as soon as we can. I’m sure they can understand our delay, but we owe her such a great debt.”

“His parents dear,” John corrected. “It was a him that saved our daughter’s life.”

Eileen looked at her husband in confusion. “But she was wearing a skirt. I saw it flair up as she fell.

John nodded as they walked. “He was wearing a skirt, this is true. His friend explained everything to me. He was one of those who felt that his body didn’t match his soul. Though he was named Bill, he wanted to be known as Sarah.” John stopped just before a window so they could look in and see their own newborn.

“Sarah’s such a nice name,” Eileen said as she stared at the tiny baby that was in a plastic pox with tubes going to and fro. “Sarah,” she said wistfully, “it is such a very beautiful name at that.”

“That was what I was thinking,” John said as he patted his wife’s hand and thus the baby was named.

The small, modest house was decorated to the hilt for the holidays. Outside, the lights were hanging from the house and around every tree and shrub the Bennett’s owned. Candy canes made of plastic bracketed the walkway that led to the front door and a large nativity scene sat directly in the center of the lawn. John spared no expense celebrating his children’s’ second Christmas, and his youngest daughter’s first birthday.

Inside it was more of the same. Tinsel and lights around every doorway, the largest Christmas tree that could fit in the house sat in the living room decked out in all the ornaments and lights it could hold.

Jenna was old enough to finally appreciate some of the holiday and though John was sure she would love the large Fisher price kitchen he bought for his older daughter, she was currently playing in the large box it came in.

John laughed as he watched the almost two year old crawl in one end of the box and stick her head out the other.

“Ah,” Josh said in mock surprise. “I see you.”

The toddler retreated further into the box and out of view. In a few seconds she would peek out once again.

The doorbell rang. John stood up from the recliner, smoothing out his dress pants and dusting off a bit of crumbs from a wayward cookie. “I’ll get it honey,” he called out, knowing his wife was changing Sarah’s diaper and getting the baby dressed in something special for the visitors.

The Cohen’s stood at the door, huddled close together as if that could keep them warm. They were both all smiles as the door opened, but it was obviously an act of courage for them to do so.

“Merry Christmas John,” William greeted and then looked at the toddler hiding behind her father’s leg. “Merry Christmas Jenna.”

Jenna withdrew even further for a second.

“Come on in,” John invited. “Merry Christmas to you both. Jenna will warm up once she figures out who you are, in this weather you both look like abominable snow people.”

“Thank you,” Gail said as she took a step in and shed her coat. “Merry Christmas John.” She gave the host a kiss on the cheek. “It was very nice of you to invite us over, we almost didn’t come, but staying in an empty house was becoming unbearable.”

William placed a large bag by the front door and took off his coat and scarf. “It’s been a long, trying year,” he said, knowing the question that was to be posed next as he grabbed the bag again. “But we’re hanging in there.”

“That’s good,” John said while leading them to a couch. “Have a seat, relax, stay a while.”

The couple smiled and did as was offered. They watched the toddler as she went back to playing with her box.

“Eighty dollars for the toy,” John said in amusement, “and she’ll spend more time playing with the box it came in.’

William nodded. “It’s like that with the little ones, enjoy it while it lasts. Soon the boxes get smaller and the gifts get more expensive.”

“Speaking of little ones,” Gail interrupted. “Where’s our God daughter. We’ve been looking forward to seeing her.”

As if on cue, Eileen appeared from the nursery. “Here she is,” the mother said, beaming with pride. “She just pitches a fit if I put he r in anything other than a dress.”

William and Gail exchanged a look that shared an unspoken thought, but the sly grins revealed enough of what they were thinking. They then turned their attention to the infant. The baby’s short, soft wisp of blonde hair reminde3d them of their own child sixteen years ago. The red velvet dress with the thick, white, padded diaper sticking out from the bottom was one of the joys they didn’t experience when their Bill was a baby, thought reflecting back, perhaps he would’ve enjoyed such a thing.

The baby squirmed in her mother’s arm, fighting to get to the visitors.

“She certainly loves her God parents,” Eileen said as she handed off the fussy baby. “She’s usually so reserved around other people, but you two have the magic touch it seems.”

William and Gail cooed and fussed over the baby for a little while, momentarily letting go of the pain this day was bringing to them. The baby girl enjoyed the attention, smiling and laughing the whole time.

“She just knows we brought her a present,” William said as he pulled a box from the bag beside him.

“You shouldn’t have,” John said, even though he knew such things were coming. The Cohen’s had become close friends over the year and with them both, the Bennett’s found a wealth of ideas, support, and love.

“This is a special gift,” William said as he presented the box to the baby. “It use to be Bill’s.”

The Bennett’s didn’t say another word as they felt the pain and sadness in the man’s voice that didn’t keep Sarah from ripping into the wrapping paper and making a small mess while having a good time about it.

“Oh, what is that?” John said in mock excitement as he looked at the plain brown box.

William opened the box and removed the porcelain figurine of the pouting ballerina. He wound the base and placed the figure on the table. The infant was mesmerized by the music and how the ballerina slowly twirled.

Sarah remembered nothing of her prior life, or how the ballerina helped her fall asleep. She knew nothing of the trials of trying to fit in a world where her own body didn’t make sense. All the little baby knew was of this life, and that the little figure was captivating as it played its music. For that moment, Sarah was happy and life promised to bring that feeling in abundance.