I caught Julie coming out of the house as I came home from work that Thursday.

"Hi!" I said to her.

"Hi."

"So what'd you do on your professional day, hunh?"

She shrugged and lay down in the snow. I took a seat up on the fence.

"Aw, come on. Tell me." She waved her arms in the snow and moved her legs. For someone with so little grace she could sure make beautiful snow angels.

"I made snow angels all day."

"Come on, tell me the truth."

"I'm not lying."

"Oh yeah? Then where're all the snow angels then?"

"They're in Mr. Albert's yard."

"Mr. Albert?"

"He's the man across the street."

"You visited him today?"

"He came over looking for you I think. But you weren't there. He had some cookies. They were really good."

"Tasty!" I said.

"I think he liked my snow angel so I made a whole bunch for him in his yard."

"Did you thank him for the cookies?"

"Yup! I gave him my Christmas ornament." She began to sit up and as I helped her out of her snow angel she stepped aside to look at it, glistening in the sun. There lay the one-armed angel.

"How come my arm does that?" she asked.

"I dunno. It's hereditary I guess."

"What's that mean?"

"It means only people in your family can do it."

"But you can't."

"Yeah, well not everyone in your family can do it. It means that, say, your mother could do it, but that doesn't mean you can, or your sister can, but your children might. You might inherit it and you might not. And I guess you did. It's really weird too. Apparently it's a very, very rare condition...makes you special."

"Good." She grinned and sat up on the fence with me. I tried to make her feel good about it. I remember her coming home from school one day crying because all the kids were teasing her about the way she did her jumping jacks. I felt very sorry for her and took her out for dinner with money I didn't have. Then later that night, in bed, I laughed a little about it, imagining her doing jumping jacks. The whole ordeal was typical of Julie. Somewhat humorous and, of course, she had forgotten completely about it the next day.

"How was your day today?" I asked.

"It's was ok. Same old, same old."

"Amaljia? Can we celebrate my day off today?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Could we go to a movie?"

I hesitated, "No, I don't have enough money. I don't get paid until Friday...and I really should start saving. I'm never going to get to university at this rate."

"Oh. Am I ever going to go to university?"

"I don't know. I don't know how I could pay for you. Usually your parents help you pay." I mean, when dad left he was really the only source of income. Mama didn't have any money to give us. It cost me money to bury her when she died. "I can barely send myself to university now that I have to take care of you, I can't possibly see how I'm going to send you."

"Was dad rich?"

"I don't know. But even if he had all the money in the world he wouldn't be rich."

"Why?"

"'Cause he didn't have a heart."

"Oh." He really hurt mom when he left.

"You weren't even a year old yet. The day after my eighteenth birthday, when I could legally take care of you, she passed away. It was long before your sixth birthday, remember?"

"Oh." She looked at the snow angel on the ground, "but you're just as good a mom as mom was."

I smiled. "Yeah, but I have to be the dad, too. It's too hard."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because hard things are sad."

"Thanks. I'm sorry too."

"Why?"

"'Cause I can't take you to the movie even though I really want to."

"It's ok." We looked at the snow angel glistening in the snow for a while longer, "can I have my allowance?" she asked.

"Why?"

"I want to go play arcade games with Ella."

"Ok," I said and handed her five bucks, "be back by supper."

"I will" and she skipped down the street leaving behind her skittery footprints. I sat there on the fence for a while and then hopped down beside the snow angel.

Reaching down I drew the rest of the arm on the angel, sort of like a prosthetic limb. It didn't look right so I rubbed it out. Julie really made vigorous snow angels, wore away the snow right down to the grass. Lying down on top of Julie's figure I made my own figure over hers. I stand up and examine my handy-work. My figure wasn't so deeply entrenched in the ground so the grass figure was completely inside my normal, white angel.

I went inside.

Stepping up to Mr. Albert's door I rang the doorbell. There was the sound of hustled movement inside and then the door opened with a frozen jolt. A young woman appeared at the door, a little older than I, maybe 24.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," she returned the gesture. I was surprised to see her here, some strange feeling came up inside me and took over my mind. I didn't have anything to say. There was a long pause. The woman blinked.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Uh...I...uh, yeah. Is Mr. Albert home?"

"Yeah, come on inside. I just put him to bed so I'll see if he's awake."

Put him to bed? What was going on here? I waited in the front hall for a while, admiring the old, stained wood that covered the place. And when the woman came down the stairs in her short white skirt and shirt I realized she was a nurse. The strange feelings went away.

"He's asleep," she said, "He usually conks out just after he's taken his pills."

"Oh," I said.

"Why, did you want to borrow something?"

"Oh, no. I just wanted to thank him for taking care of Julie the other day."

"Oh, well you can just pop in tomorrow and thank him yourself. I'm on my way back to the hospital now."

"You his nurse?" I asked.

"Yeah. I just help him around the house. Do cleaning for him sometimes. He's a great employer, bakes cookies and stuff. Never puts up a fuss." She sat down on the bench beside the door and pulled on her enormous black, leather, snow boots.

"Can I ask what happened to him?"

"Sure. He was in some sort of accident. I don't know. All I know is that the only way he can communicate is through that telecommmunicator on his chest. Poor guy. He's been alone for a lot of his life."

"Hmm."

"Yeah. All I know is that if he was a little younger, I'd be after him. He's a good man, they're hard to find." She smiled and, pulling, the boot came on. Finishing tying up her tremendous black snow boots she stood up to put on her coat.

"How long's he been like that?"

"I don't know. 'Bout eleven years, I think," she zips up the front, "Hey, have you ever had one of his cookies?"

I shook my head and laughed, "no."

"Wow, you should try them. They're wonderful. You should try them sometime."

We left the house and she shut the door behind us.