So I was watching one of those films. You know the

kind: cheaply made-for-TV at Christmas time. Full of cute kids whose

families are being squashed by the weight of some

manufactured crisis. Then despite my (long nurtured) defensive

cynical screen, I am punctured by goodness;

skewered by grace that grew where even the trees

are plastic. I can offer no excuses except to say that

like fake glitter on the surface of snow the hidden

heart of this angel-beast is shaped

towards love.