:: wax on, wax off :: (skeeballfanatic) wrote in colligo_threads, @ 2009-12-25 11:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, castiel, clark kent, damien thorn, god, satan |
WHO: God (OPEN TO MULTIPLE THREADS)
WHAT: Celebrating Christmas, in Her own way.
WHEN: Christmas morning - 10am
WHERE: A church
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress
Many skeptics believed that Christmas had become so commercialized, so focused on spending money buying things that people don't really need, that the real reason for the holiday had been lost. In some ways, perhaps, that was true. For some people it really was all about getting gifts rather than giving them, about selfish things rather than sharing love with those around them. Yet as a whole, those who celebrated tended to know the real reason for Christmas and most, in their own way, gave thanks for it.
And needless to say, it was typically a very busy day for God.
The fact of the matter was, when people prayed, God listened. No matter how small the prayer, no matter how seemingly insignificant, God was there. Smiling down upon them with love and compassion. And while Christmas was symbolic of the birth of her only begotten Son, people still prayed for themselves. Asked for things for their loved ones, for health and for happiness. And every single one of those prayers was acknowledged in some way. It was the one day that things were personally handled by her, as her own thanks to those who still remembered the sacrifice she'd made for humanity so very long ago.
So for the majority of the early morning, God had returned to Heaven to preside over Earth. Now that the sun had risen, though, she returned to Colligo to be with those who were cut off from her creation. She had spent a few hours walking the streets to be amongst the mortals. She had given food and blankets to a group of homeless who were huddled together in the park rather than going to one of the shelters in the city. She had made money appear in a single mother's purse so she could afford some last minute gifts for her children. And at long last, God had wound up at the very same church upon whose lawn she had met with Castiel a few months earlier.
There was a smile upon her face as she listened to the bells sound the beginning of the service. Her skirt flowed silently around her ankles as she stepped inside the building and looked around. Spotting an empty pew and made her way to it, deciding that this was where she would spend the next hour or so. Not up front, near the stained glass window that depicted an image of her Son and his disciples, nor at the alter where the men in cloth were beginning to pray to her, but at the very back of the congregation amongst those who were troubled yet still present. Those looking for guidance, clinging to their last shred of belief, and hoping with everything they had within their soul that God would smile upon them.
Little did they know that she already was.