Today’s guest-blogger is Angels on Earth editorial assistant Kelly P. Gallagher.
Has anyone ever told you something nice out of the blue that you’ve never forgotten? It’s happened to me.
When I was 16, my sabre fencing instructor had a birthday party. It seemed like he invited everyone he knew, including his more advanced fencing students—a group of cute boys just a little older than me. They were all laughing and hanging out together, making the most of the party.
And me? I wanted to look cool, but instead I made a fool of myself.
Crash! I walked directly into a sliding glass door on my way out to the patio, spilling a bowl of Jell-O onto the floor. I bent down to pick up the wriggly red pieces, and then—Bam! I smacked my head on the underside of the table while trying to stand up. Try to not make a spectacle of yourself, I thought.
Once I finally made it outside, I sat down on a wooden swing and gently kicked off with my feet. Snap! The board under my backside cracked in half, and I dropped to the ground like a rock! The boys glanced over. My stomach sank when I saw one of them smirk! I ran into the bathroom to clean up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Ugh, I thought, taking in my puffy hair, giant eyes and big nose. I’m not just a klutz. I’m gross, to boot! I’ll just spend the rest of this party holed up in the corner, walking out into the living room. There was a woman sitting on the arm of the sofa. “Excuse me,” she said. I stopped and looked at her with questioning eyes.
“I’ve been watching you today,” she said.
I felt my face flush. Oh, great! I thought. I hope she enjoyed the show!
“I just wanted to tell you that you’re very pretty, honey. Like a little angel—like someone Botticelli might have painted.”
What? I didn’t know who Botticelli was. But she said I was pretty—that was definitely nice! I smiled and chatted with her a bit. She asked me about school and how long I’d been taking fencing lessons. Pretty soon it was time to go.
When I got home, I checked the Internet and quickly found artwork by the Italian painter Sandro Botticelli. I took a long look at the little angels and girls he painted. I wasn’t sure if I looked like them or not. But I was honored to be grouped with such fine creations.
Today, almost 15 years later, I couldn’t tell you that woman’s name or even what she looked like. But my earth angel’s kind words still resonate. Sometimes, without warning, her message will pop into my mind. And it always makes me smile.
