It was little over a week before Christmas and once again Castiel found himself at loose ends. Sam and Dean had left the Bunker two days earlier, driving down to Texas to investigate a case that possibly involved a poltergeist. Or some other restless spirit. Either way, a minor run for the Winchester brothers, with no expectation of a need for the angel to tag along…so off they went. Cas drifted around the underground space, reading a few journals and ancient books on magic and monsters from the Men of Letters' collections – but soon became as bored as any celestial being would in similar circumstances. After neatly re-shelving the various tomes back in their proper places, he decided to set out and satisfy his curiosity about all the many ways humans celebrate during this holiday season. So many traditions, so many customs! He was fascinated by all of it, and took off in a rustle of wings.

In Germany, he strolled thru the Striezelmarkt in the Old Town of Dresden and watched the cheerful crowds flowing around and past the hundreds of booths offering all manner of food and gifts. To his right, laughing children were riding the huge Christmas carousel around and around, while to his left others pulled at their parents' hands, dragging them towards displays of treats or toys. Then Cas popped over to the Christmas Market in Dusseldorf, exploring the themed locations sprinkled throughout the city before landing in the beautifully preserved medieval Old Town of Erfurt and its Market. He gazed with appreciation at the exquisite craftsmanship of the life-sized carved wooden Nativity Scene (resisting the urge to point out the discrepancies between the Biblical narrative and the actual event) and a tall, illuminated Christmas tree…which reminded him of the Tree at Rockefeller Center in New York City he had seen on television, so he took off to visit that next.

The magnificent Norway Spruce was a dazzling sight to see, with thousands of colorful lights and crowned with a blazing white, multi-pointed star. And the fun was in full swing on the ever-popular ice-skating rink: the ice was crowded with people whirling, twirling, circling…and falling down. But no one seemed to mind. Cas tilted his head in bemusement at the sight of humanity in all its irrepressible enjoyment of an activity – even one that involves the risk of an occasional sudden face-plant on a frozen surface.

Next was a visit to Australia, to see a particular street in Sydney with its coordinated light display, homes decorated with Christmas Bush, and a Carols by Candlelight service. Then off to Sweden, where he sat in the back of a candlelit church and listened to a choir of white-robed girls and women singing traditional carols in a celebration of St Lucia.

As Cas sat in the pew, contemplating the harmony with eyes closed and in a relaxed mental state, he could feel the prayers of humans brushing against his mind like the light touch of thousands of feathers. Whispers of hope, despair, thankfulness and sadness streamed past his awareness, a quiet river he could feel both in its entirety and as individual motes of thought. Focusing in on one, he stood up and exited the church, letting the prayer pull him to its owner.

He found himself standing in the small park of the central Courthouse square in the small town of Greencastle, Indiana. An elderly woman was sitting on a bench a few yards away, bundled up in a warm coat and heavy wool scarf to fend off the winter chill. An old dog sat at her feet, leaning against her legs in a mutual sharing of warmth. Her grey hair was tucked into a neat bun, mostly hidden under a soft, hand-knit hat that matched her mittens – she had knit them herself, an effort both practical and a way to keep her hands busy in the evening. She was gazing at the brightly decorated storefronts, and the light foot traffic of townspeople window shopping and going about their business.

Cas glanced around the small, snow-covered park space, the woman was alone (except for the dog) and didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave for someplace with greater social opportunities – or at least warmer. The cold air didn't bother the angel – he didn't really need the coat he was wearing, but he always felt it helped him blend into humanity better (even if Sam and Dean might disagree with that.) With no better plan for what to do, he walked over to the woman and said, "excuse me, is anyone else sitting here with you?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just me and Charles today. Are you with the school?"

Cas sat down on the opposite end of the bench, and thought about that for a second. "School?"

"DePauw University. A few blocks south of here. No? So a visitor then, to our little town. We don't get many tourists here."

Cas looked around. "Your little town seems nice enough. Very…picturesque."

"We like to think so. Very nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Catherine. This is Charles. He likes people."

Charles lifted his paw, and after a moment's hesitation, Cas solemnly shook it. "Nice to meet you, Charles. And Catherine. My name is Casti….Cas."

"Cas. That's an interesting name. So are you visiting family?" She turned her head to him, and he noticed her eyes were clouded with a light film of cataracts. She could see, but not well. Charles chuffed in confirmation.

"I…don't have any family here. Mine are in…" he paused to ping their souls "…Fort Worth."

"Texas? My goodness. That's a distance" she replied. "My grandchildren will be spending Christmas with my daughter-in-law's family. My son says we will 'Skype' – I'm not very good with computers. But I'm sure it will all work out." She nodded her head in pragmatic determination. Her Midwestern upraising and G.I. "Greatest" Generation sensibilities were the sort where one made do with what one had and didn't complain too much about it.

The angel now understood the context of her prayer, "please help me see my grandchildren this Christmas." But there was another layer of yearning in her heart, her failing eyes made the faces of her loved ones misty and lacking sharp detail: soft-focused and muted colors. The wistful edge to her emotions prompted him to ask, "Does this mean you will be alone this year?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, dear. I won't be alone. My cousin lives up the road a-ways in Marshall, and of course I have Charles." She laid an affectionate hand on the dog's back, who thumped his shaggy tail twice, clearing snow off a small wedge of sidewalk like a broom.

Catherine braced her left hand on the armrest, and slowly began to push herself up from the bench. "I'm about to go have dinner at the Putnam Inn. My husband Richard used to love eating there. Now that he's gone, it's sometimes too much bother to fix something just for myself, and I do so enjoy their fish sandwich. They also have a very nice breakfast buffet."

Castiel stood too. "Thank you for the suggestion. I will consider it." He looked down at Charles, who was staring up at him intently. Charles wagged his tail. Cas raised his eyebrows, then gave a slight nod. The dog chuffed again and a bit more snow was dusted off the sidewalk.

Cas reached out a hand to steady the woman and helped her to cross the street. If his hand on her arm seemed to glow with a gentle white light for a moment, no one noticed. "Goodbye, Catherine. I hope you will be able to see your family on Skype…and merry Christmas to you too, Charles." He gave the old dog a farewell pat on his fluffy head.

Catherine didn't immediately reply, as she was staring around her in astonishment. The normally blurred shapes of the buildings and people were suddenly clear and brightly colored, her now-unclouded eyes were almost overwhelmed, trying to absorb all the sudden detail. "Oh my! This is… my eyes… I can see! Everything is so clear! What…?" and she turned around to look for the friendly young man she had just spent a pleasant few minutes with, but there was no one standing beside her. He had disappeared.

Charles, no longer quite so grey around the muzzle, thumped his tail a few times against her legs.

Dogs can have Christmas prayers answered too.