The Tallest Angel
Author Unknown
Author Unknown
"God doesn't love me!" The words echoed sharply through the thoughts of Miss Ellis as she looked around the fourth-grade school room. Her gaze skipped lightly over the many bent heads and then rested on one in particular. "God doesn't love me!" The words had struck her mind so painfully that he mouth opened slightly in mute protest.
The child under Miss Ellis's troubled study lifted her head for a minute, scanned her classmates briefly, then bent to her book again.
Ever since the first day of school, Miss Ellis had been hurt and troubled by those bitter assertions. "God doesn't love me!" The rods had come from the small nine-year-old girl that stirred again restively under the continued scrutiny of Miss Ellis. Then, bending her head to her own desk, Miss Ellis prayed in her heart for the nth time, "Help her, dear God, and help me to help her. Please show Dory the you do love her too."
Dory sat with her geography book opened upon her desk, but the thoughts that raced through her mind were not concerned with the capital of Ohio. A moment before she had felt the warm eyes of Miss Ellis upon her, and now angry sentences played tag with each other in her bowed head. Once again she heard the calm voice of Miss Ellis.
"God wants us to be happy in His love"–Dory laughed bitterly to herself. How could anyone be happy with a hunched back and leg braces!
"God loves everyone," Miss Ellis had said, to which Dory had angrily replied, "But he doesn't love me–that's why he made me ugly and crippled."
"God is good."
"God is not good to me. He's mean to me! That's what – to let me grow so crooked."
Dory raised her head and looked at the children around her. Mary Ann had long golden curls, dory had straight brown hair, pulled back tight and braided into an unlovely pigtail. Jeanetta had china blue eyes that twinkled like evening stars; Dory had brown eyes that seemed smoky, so full of bitterness were they. Ellen Sue had a pink rosebud mouth that readily spread into a happy smile. Well, Ellen Sue could smile. She had a lovely dimpled body and ruffled, ribbon-ed dresses. But why should Dory smile? Her mouth was straight and tight, and her body hunched and twisted. Anyone would laugh to see ruffles on her dresses. No pink and blue dresses for her, only straight dark gowns that hung like sacks over her small hunched frame.
Suddenly hate and anger so filled the heart of the little girl that she felt she must get away from this roomful of straight-bodied children or choke. She signaled her desire to Miss Ellis, who nodded permission.
There was neither pity nor laughter in the yes that followed Dory to the door, only causal indifference. The children had long since accepted Dory as she was. No one ever jeered at her awkwardness, nor did anyone fuss over her in pity. The children did not mean to be unkind, but knowing the limits of Dory's mobility, they usually ran off to their active games, leaving her a lonely little spectator.
Miss Ellis saw the children settle back to their studies as the door closed after Dory. She stared at the door, not seeing the door at all, only the small, hunchbacked girl.
"What can I do to help her be happy?" She pondered. "What can anyone say or do to comfort and encourage such a child?"
She had talked to Dory's parents and had found them to be of little help. They seemed inclined to feel that Dory's crippled condition was a blot upon them, one which they did not deserve. Miss Ellis had urged them not to try to explain Dory's condition, but to accept it as God's will and try to seek His blessings through acceptance of His will. They were almost scornful to the idea that any blessing could be found in a crippled, unhappy child, but they did agree to come to church and to bring Dory as often as possible.
"Please help Dory," prayed Miss Ellis. Help Dory and her parents too." Then the hall bell sounded, and Miss Ellis arose to dismiss her class.
The reds, yellows and green of autumn faded into the white of winter. The Christmas season was unfolding in the room. Tiny Christmas trees stood shyly on the window sills. A great green wreath covered the door. Its silver bells jingled whenever the door moved, and the delighted giggles of the children echoed in return. The blue-white shadows of a winter afternoon were creeping across the snow as Miss Ellis watched the excited children set up the manger
scene on the low sand table.
"Christmas," thought Miss Ellis, "is a time of peace and joy. Even the children feel the spirit and try to be nicer to one another."
"Is your Christmas dress done yet, Ellen Sue?"
Without waiting for an answer, Mary Ann Chattered on, "mother got material for mine today–it's red, real red velvet. Oh, I can hardly wait, can you?"
"Mine is all done but the hem." Ellen Sue fairly trembled with excitement. "It's pink, with rosebuds made of ribbon."
Miss Ellis smiled, remembering the thrill of the Christmas dresses of her own girlhood. How carefully they were planned, and how lovingly her mother had made each one. Miss Ellis leaned back to cherish the memories a moment longer. Then a movement caught her eye. Slowly, furtively, with storm-filled eyes, Dory was backing away from the chattering children. Her heart stirred with sympathy. Miss Ellis watched the unhappy child ease herself into her chair, pull a book from her desk and bend her head over it. "She isn't studying," Thought Miss Ellis. "She is only pretending–to cover up her misery."
Dory stared at the book in front of her, fighting against the tears that demanded release. What if one of the girls asked about her Christmas dress? Her Christmas dress indeed! Would anyone call a brown sack of a dress a Christmas dress? Would the children laugh? No, Dory knew the girls wouldn't laugh. They would just feel sorry for her and her shapeless dress. Sometimes that was almost worse than if they would laugh. At least then she would have an excuse to pour out the angry words that crowded into her throat.
"Dory," a warm voice broke in upon her thoughts. "Dory will you help me with these Christmas decorations? You could walk along and hold them for me while I pin them up, please."
Dory arose, thankful for the diversion and thankful to be near Miss Ellis. The silver tinsel was pleasant to hold, and Miss Ellis always made her feel so much better.
Slowly they proceeded around the room, draping the tinsel garland as they went. The babble of voices in the corner by the sand table took on a new note, an insistent clamoring tone that finally burst forth in a rush of small bodies in the direction of Miss Ellis.
"Please, Miss Ellis, can I be Mary in the Christmas program?"
"Miss Ellis, I'd like to be Joseph."
"I should be Mary because I can't sing in the angel choir."
Miss Ellis raised her hand for quiet. After a moment, she began, "I've already chosen the ones who will play the parts of Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the angel choir."
"Tell us the names; tell us the names now," the children chorused.
"All right," agreed Miss Ellis as she reached for a paper from her desk. "Here they are: Sue Ellen will be Mary; Daniel will be Joseph: John, Allen and Morris will be the shepherds. All the rest of you will be choir angels–"
Miss Ellis scanned the eager hopeful faces around her till she saw the upturned face of Dory. There was no eager hope in her small pinched face. Dory felt from bitter experience that no one wanted a hunchback in a program. Miss Ellis could not bear the numb resignation on that small white face. Almost without realizing what she was saying, she finished the sentence. "All will be choir angels except Dory." There was a moment of hushed surprise. "Dory will be the special angel who talks to the shepherds."
All the children gasped and turned to look at Dory. Dory, a special angel? They had never thought of that. As realization penetrated Dory's amazement, a slow smile relaxed the pinched features, a little candle flame of happiness shone in the brown eyes.
"Her eyes are lovely when she's happy," marveled Miss Ellis. "Oh, help her to be happy more often!"
The hall bell sounded the end of another school day, and soon all the children had bidden Miss Ellis goodbye as they hurried from the room.
All but one. All but Dory. She stood very still, as if clinging to a magic moment for as long as possible. The lights had flickered out of her eyes, and her face seemed whiter than ever before.
Miss Ellis knelt and took Dory's cold little hands in her own. "What is it, Dory? Don't you want o be a special angel after all?"
"I do, I do–" Dory's voice broke. "But–but–I'll be a horrid hunchbacked angel. Everyone will stare at me and laugh because angels are straight and beauti–" Dory's small body shook with uncontrollable sobs.
"Listen to me, Dory," Miss Ellis began slowly. "You are going to be my special angel. Somehow I'm going to make you look straight and beautiful, like real angels. Will you just be happy Dory, and let me plan it all out? Then I'll tell you all about it."
Dory lifted her head hopefully "Do you think you can, Miss Ellis, do you think you can?"
"I know I can, Dory. Smile now, you're so pretty when you smile. And say over and over, `God loves me, God loves me." That will make you want to smile. Will you try it, Dory?"
A shadow of disbelief crossed Dory's face. Then she brightened with resolution.
"I'll say it, Miss Ellis, and if you can make me look like a straight angel, I'll try to believe it."
"That's the spirit, Dory. Good-bye, now, and have nice dreams tonight."
Dory went to the door, paused a moment, then turned again to Miss Ellis.
"Yes, Dory, is there something else?"
Dory hesitated for a long moment. Then she said slowly, "do you think I could look like a tall angel, too? I'm smaller than anyone else because my back is so bent. Do you think I could look like a tall angel?"
"I'm sure that we can make you look tall," promised Miss Ellis recklessly.
Dory sighed with satisfaction and let the door swing shut behind her. The silver bells on the Christmas wreath jingled merrily, almost mockingly.
"What have I done?" Thought Miss Ellis soberly. "I have promised a little crooked girl that she will be a tall, straight angel. I haven't the slightest idea how I am going to do it. Dear God, please help me–show me the way. For the first time since I've known her, I have seen Dory happy. Please help her be happy in Your love, dear God. Show me the way to help her."
Miss Ellis went to sleep that night with the prayer still in her heart.
Morning came crisp and clear. Lacy frills of frost hung daintily from every branch and bush. Miss Ellis rubbed her eyes and looked out of her window. The sparkling white beauty of the morning reminded her of angels. Angels! She recalled her promise. She had dreamed of angels too. What was the dream about, what was it? Miss Ellis tapped her finger against her lip in concentration.
Suddenly, as if a dark door had opened to the sunshine, the dream, the whole angel plan swept into her mind. Idea after idea tumbled about like dancing sunbeams. She must hurry and dress; she must get to the schoolhouse early to talk to Joe, the janitor. Joe could do anything, and she was sure that he would help her.
A the door of the school she scarcely paused to stomp the snow from her boots. Quickly she went down to the furnace room where Joe was stoking coal into the hungry furnace.
"Joe," she began. "I need your help. I've got to make little Dory Saunders into a tall, straight angel for our Christmas program."
Joe thumped his shovel down, looked at her intently and scratched his head. "You certainly did pick yourself a job, Miss Ellis. How are you going to do all of this, and where do I figure?"
"It's like this, Joe," and she outlined her plan to him, and Joe agreed to it.
Miss Ellis went lightly up the steps to her fourth-grade room. She greeted the children cheerily, smiling warmly at Dory. Dory returned the smile, with the candle flames of happiness glowing again in her eyes.
For Dory the day was enchanted. Round faced angels smiled at her through the O's in her arithmetic book. The time passed dreamily on whirring angel wings. At last, school was over, and she was alone with Miss Ellis, waiting to hear the marvelous plan that would make her a straight and a beautiful angel.
"I've thought it all out, Dory." Miss Ellis pulled Dory close as she explained the plan. "Mrs. Brown and I are going to make you a long white gown and wings, and Joe will fix you up so you will be the tallest angel of all. But, Dory, let's keep it a secret until the night of the program, shall we?"
Dory nodded vigorously. She couldn't speak. The vision was too lovely forwords, so she just nodded and hugged Miss Ellis as tight as her thin arms could squeeze. Then she limped from the room.
Dory had never felt such happiness. Now she really had a place in the scheme of events. At least until Christmas, she felt, she really belonged with the other children. She was really like other children. Maybe even God loved her.
At last, the night of the program came. Carols of praise to the newborn King rang through the school.
Now it was time for the Christmas pageant. Soft music invited a quiet mood, and the audience waited for the curtains to open upon a shepherd scene.
The sky was dark as the shepherds sat huddled around their fire. Then suddenly a bright light burst over the scene. The audience gasped in surprise. High upon a pedestal, dressed in a gown of shimmering white satin, Dory raised her arms in salutation.
"Fear not." Her face was radiant as she spoke. "For behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." Her voice gathered conviction as she continued, "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord."
The triumphant ring in her voice carried to the choir, and the children sang, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men," as they had never sung before.
Dory's father blinked hard at the tears that stung his eyes, and he thought in his heart, "Why she's a beautiful child. Why doesn't Martha curl her hair and put a ribbon in it?"
Dory's mother closed her eyes on the lovely vision, praying silently, "Forgive me, God; I haven't appreciated the good things about Dory because I've been so busy complaining about her misfortunes."
The sounds of the carols sung by the choir died away, and the curtains silently closed.
Miss Ellis hurried backstage and lifted Dory from her high pedestal.
"Dory," she asked softly, "what happened? How did you feel when you were the angel? Something wonderful happened to you. I saw it in your face."
Dory hesitated. "You'll laugh–"
"Never, never, Dory. I promise!"
"Well, while I was saying the angel message, I began to feel taller and taller and real straight." She paused and looked intently at Miss Ellis.
"Go on, dear," urged Miss Ellis gently. "What else?"
"Well, I didn't feel my braces anymore. And do you know what?"
"No, what? Tell me."
"Right then I knew it's true. God does love me."
"Dory, as long as you know that is true, you'll never be really unhappy again. And someday, my dear, you will stand straight and tall and beautiful among the real angels in heaven.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours! May Heavenly Father bless you this holiday season and in the coming year.
Love,
The Smith Family
