Because Hope hadn't wanted to contend with Christmas, and all the goopy family gifts, a box with a single white feather poofed beneath trees, one for each member in the household, with a message.
This will grant you one favor, big or small, that is within my power to grant. Think if Genie's rules. I can't make someone fall in love with you, permanently, and I can't raise people from the dead without them looking really gross. And I can't bring people here randomly.
And being filled, mostly, with the heavenly host I can grant forgiveness in His name.
So, yeah, Merry belated my Uncle's birthday and all that.
Hope.