Sandy Claws and the Elves chose Sparky and Peter, two of the Dumpster Kittens, for the Renaud twins in Paris; Angelica, a lovely white cat was a perfect match for a spinster in Baltimore; Spunky, a gray tabby, went to Alice and George Wimberton in London, whose hearts had yearned unsuccessfully for a child.

"I think Braveheart would be perfect for Daisy McCombs," ventured Gremel, as they circled over Ireland.

Sandy smiled, but shook his head. "I have other plans for Braveheart," he said. "We'll give Daisy little Rachel." Rachel needs lots of love and attention, and Daisy has nothing but time on her hands since her husband passed away last year. I think they'll find what they both need in each other.

After several hours of deliveries, they still had a dozen cats left. Woeful was starting to get that look on his face again, and some of the other Elves were whispering nervously among themselves. The number of homes on their list had dwindled and Sandy was starting to worry, himself, that he had somehow miscalculated the cat-to-home ratio.

He brightened when his gaze zoomed in on a large, rambling structure on the edge of a large town. "There's the Shiloh Old Folks Home!" (Although nowadays people called them "retirement homes" or "managed care facilities", they were still homes for old folks, and that's what Sandy still called them.) "I bet we could brighten the lives of dozens of elderly folks with the rest of these kitties."

They all pitched in with the delivery this time, scurrying back and forth from sled to bedside, and even leaving a huge tray of cookies and several gallons of hot cider for the oldsters, as well as a dozen large bags of cat foods for the cats, along with a note for the attendants.

They were so excited about their success that Sandy took them for a whirlwind spin around the globe, to celebrate. "On Dasher! On Dancer--"

Suddenly, the sleigh deflected off an asteroid and went spinning out of control. Sandy fought the reins as the Elves held each other in fright. "Oh NO!" Woeful yelled. "There goes Braveheart!"

Santa looked down in horror as the kitten fell through the sky, plummeting toward the Indian Ocean, below.
"Meoooooooooooooowwwwr..." they heard faintly, as he disappeared from sight. Sandy righted the sleigh and flew after the kitten. As they sped through the sky, a blue-white light flashed past them. Heart thudding, Sandy steered toward where they had last seen the hapless kitten, which was precisely the direction the light had taken. As they grew nearer, they could see ahead a glow, and hear the soft,sweet strummings of magnificent harp music.

"Oh, MY!" said Woeful.

"Oh, WOW!" shouted Alfie.

"Well, I'll be.." muttered Gremel

"Thank You, Lord," whispered Sandy

"Meowwwww," purred Braveheart.

There, floating in the clouds, with velvety wings sprouted from his little shoulders, was Braveheart. Floating alongside him, strumming a harp and smiling sweetly, was the most beautiful Angel they'd ever seen, though to tell the truth none of them had ever seen a live angel before. "The wings are not permanent," the Angel told Sandy Claws. They will disappear before morning, but I just could not bear to see this sweet kitten go to the Rainbow Bridge this early in his young life.

"I don't know how to thank you," Sandy murmured, as he tucked Braveheart safely back into his coat.

"You already have," smiled the Angel, as she spun and flew back into the Heavens.

Sandy felt a veil of tears mist his eyes, and the Elves heaved a collective sigh as they surreptitiously wiped at their eyes.

Sandy cleared his throat, and announced, "Just one last stop, and then we'll be through for the year--the Century--the Millennium. See, Woeful. Didn't I tell you that miracles can happen if you have faith?" Woeful nodded happily as he brushed a stray tear from his eye.

The sleigh circled over a small town in Ohio.
"There's a little boy in this town who had heart surgery a few weeks ago, said Sandy. "The doctors are still not sure of the outcome. They've told his parents that little Frankie needs the will to live, but he's been sick for so long that he's almost lost it. He needs a friend like Braveheart to give him strength and unconditional love, as only cats can give. Now, where is that house?"

They circled the town for several minutes, then Alfie poked Sandy with his elbow. "See that white house with the wreath on the door? Isn't that a wheelchair next to the bed of the child who sleeps there?"

"That's the house, Alfie!" said Sandy. Extra fruitcake for you when we get back home!" Alfie groaned inwardly, because he secretly hated fruitcake, but he smiled and thanked Sandy, like the good elf he was trained to be.

Sandy Claws made the delivery himself this time. Whoosh! Down the chimney he went. Silently, he tiptoed into Frankie's room, and took Braveheart from the folds of his coat. The downy wings folded softly around the body of the sleeping kitten as Sandy kissed it on its nose and gently laid it next to the sleeping boy. "I sure hope that Angel was right about the wings," he thought, as he flew back up the chimney to the waiting sleigh and his happily exhausted Elves.