My Angel Story


I have an odd Christmas story to tell.
It doesn't have a great moral and it probably won't make you cry or sigh.
It's just something that happened in my real life growing up in the very early 70's.

As a little Lutheran girl I attended confirmation class. I think we took special classes
one night a week for two years: seventh and eighth grades.

I have very vague memories of confirmation class. I remember a room and someone reading out of the
Bible for a long time. It was boring.

I remember my actual confirmation day. It was important to me. We were going to be asked
questions in front of the whole church and I was sure to know all the answers.
No one else knew any answers. I think I answered them all. It was odd.
"Why won't they speak up?" I wondered.

But the thing I remember most was when our group acted out the Christmas story for the parents.

Our confirmation class was recruited to be the angels.
My best friend in confirmation class was Vivian Moore.
She is the only person I actually remember from confirmation class. We knew one another from school
for many years.

So on the night of the performance we donned our sheets and wings.
Then we were told to go to make up.

At make up someone smeared white makeup all over our faces.

It looked terrible.

But, someone had the idea that angels were suppose to be very white.
And so we were.

My parents were at the show.
My father came up to me after the show and was very angry.
I was startled by his tone.

"Who on earth put that white makeup on Vivian?"



You see, Vivian was a black girl, and they made her wear white makeup, too.

I hadn't realized the terrible message that was being sent. But my father did and
he was so offended for Vivian and her family.

It never crossed my mind that some people thought only white people could be angels.
I learned to be more sensitive to others that night.

I learned a lot about my father that night.



Encourage one another,
Donna