Being the Angel
I don’t believe in angels.
I was uncomfortable when, in the mid-1990’s, I heard people relating stories of random kindness and attributing the event to angels. I distinctly remember telling someone about an emotional moment when I was lost in the cemetery where my mother is buried. I was wandering, disoriented, when I saw a man not far away. My friend immediately said, “He was an angel; they show up when you need them.”
Who was that man in the cemetery? I still believe he worked as a groundskeeper. He was dressed for the job and knew exactly how to get me back on track. Nothing supernatural about it. I didn’t buy it. I would much rather believe that sometimes people are spontaneously wise and generous.
Angels on the subway, 2024
Meeting an angel?
Just because I don’t believe that messengers from God come to earth to instruct humans about their correct path in life, that does not negate that there are people who will enhance the life of others. Last week, I wrote about a brush with distressed people on the New York City subway.
In that recounting, I mentioned a Latinx woman who left the train car, showing me that I could leave the situation. Did she somehow save me by showing me how to separate myself from the situation? Was she an angel? She did have a twinkle in her eye when she saw me board her car at the next stop.
I believe no. She was someone far more used to traveling by subway than I am.
Being an angel?
What I didn’t mention in my blog last week about the MTA in New York was that I was transferred to a shuttle bus on the way onto Manhattan on that same day. On the shuttle bus, I got to be an angel. I wonder if the young family I met on the bus had that fleeting thought?
Here’s what happened:
I checked my route on the app the night before. The train was running normally with no scheduled outages. However, I didn’t check it in the morning. My rookie mistake. So, I had a 2-stop shuttle ride. (There was an alternate route back that I figured out before I returned. Don’t fool me twice, MTA!).
While boarding the shuttle bus, a young family ceded their spot in line to me. They had three children under five and a stroller. It was Thanksgiving weekend, so I suspect they were not locals. They were clearly disconcerted by the sudden change in plans. I deferred, saying gently, “You go first; you are more encumbered.”
As I was leaving the shuttle bus, I noticed a pair of gloves on a seat. I realized it was where the adult man of that family was sitting. I took the gloves and rushed out to find the family on the sidewalk. They had just begun to go back to the gloves, and there I was – a miracle! – with the gloves in hand.
Being an angel is pretty easy. Think about what other people might need in an everyday situation. Then do it. Give accurate directions, pick up abandoned items, be generous with your attention to others.
Being Santa
I’ve been seeing this idea floating around for the last five years or so:
Q: What do you tell a child who is aging out of believing in Santa?
A: Tell the child that Santa is about generosity and kindness. Little children need to learn how to appreciate generosity and kindness; you’ve learned that. Now, you (the child) are old enough to appreciate generosity and kindness, you get to BE Santa. You are big enough to understand that generosity and kindness helps people feel happy and cared for.
This is a much better answer than, “Santa isn’t real. Children enjoy the magic of it, so it makes Christmas special. Santa doesn’t really see you when you are sleeping or only give toys to good children… Now, you are bigger, you don’t need that myth… (Six months later) Let’s talk about God…”