Thanks to my conservative(保守的) Jewish background, I didn’t believe in angels. That is, not until Christmas Eve of 1979, when an angel brought unexpected joy to my home.After divorce, my two daughters not only lost the security of a whole family, they also tearfully left behind neighborhood friends, a familiar school, and a large house. These had all been replaced with a narrow two-bedroom apartment in a poorer part of town.I arranged to take my vocation during my children’s winter school holiday. We spent evenings planning activities: cookie baking, games, a pizza night, and evening car rides to view neighborhood holiday lights. With expectation, they seemed to be in good spirits.The week before the school break, however, terrible news of family disasters arrived. By Christmas Eve, gloom clouded our vacation plans. An afternoon outing for movie did little to improve our mood.On returning to our apartment, we were astonished to see a beautiful, six-foot Christmas tree propped(支撑) against our front door. In silent wonder, we looked back and forth, from the tree to one another and around the empty street. Excitement built, and the girls begged to keep the tree.“Maybe it’s for us,” insisted my older daughter.“Yeah,” echoed my younger child. “I bet an angel brought it to us!”I laughed aloud at the idea of an angel bringing a Christmas tree to a Jewish family. Caught up in their happiness, I pronounced the tree “ours.”We dragged it inside and headed out to the only supermarket in our small town open that late on Christmas Eve. With holiday goods marked down to half price, I gave a nod of approval to a tree stand(底座), two boxes of multicolored balls, a package of six Santa figurines(小雕像), a 100-foot string of mini lights, and one paper angel.