When it's all over, Aziraphale wipes a tear away from his eye. "Thank you for sharing that with me," he says, quietly. "It was a beautiful memory." His family had never been like that, or much of anything at all. Sure, he loved all of them dearly, but it was in the way angels loved everything. The only one he'd personally loved more than strictly necessary was God Herself.

"I think we should have-- should've looked for these sooner," he says. "We could've helped you celebrate Hanukkah." Well, without a menorah. They could've made an attempt.