The most beautiful angel ever! 

I am white and I grew up in an all-white suburb outside of Detroit. Our public schools were 96% white all my life. I went to a college that was predominantly white. I also, for reasons I now understand, always had a strong identification with the underdog in most situations in life.  During high school and college I often argued with my parents and others about social issues: racial equality, gender fairness, socioeconomic oppression, civil liberties, and individual rights.

I marched in civil rights demonstrations and labor union protests during the 60’s. I admired Martin Luther King, Jr., Howard Fuller, Stokely Carmichael, Malcolm X and others of that era.  I did volunteer Big Brother work in economically depressed and predominantly black neighborhoods. I bought my first house in a majority black neighborhood in Durham, NC. I taught at a historically black university and even became a department chair (very rare for a white faculty member). I have published Op-Ed pieces on racism in education.  I cried when Barack Obama was elected president.  In short, I was pretty secure in my beliefs and feelings about race.

Then one Christmas about eighteen years ago I had a most unsettling experience.  My wife and daughter had gone out to buy an angel for the top of our Christmas tree.  I passed up the chance to go to the “angel store” and opted for a nap instead. This angel was to become our family Christmas angel, and our first-born child would pick it out.

I heard them returning and soon E was tugging on my shoulder.

“Daddy, I want you to look at our angel.”

I rolled over and sat up on the couch still a little groggy and fuzzy.  E came over with a white cardboard box and set it in my lap.

“Open it up Daddy” she said with that expectant look that only a four year old can have. I pulled the top back, parted the white tissue paper, reached into the box and pulled out an angel - a black angel.  It was beautiful; but, it was a black angel. I was stunned.  I didn’t react the way she expected, and she knew something wasn’t right.  E quickly withdrew as I glared at my wife with a “How could you do this?” look.  I reassured E that it was very pretty and that we would put it up “later.”

A few minutes later my wife commented “I thought you might be surprised.  I tried to talk her into other angels, but she kept coming back to this one. I thought we wanted her to pick it out, so that’s what we did.  We can return it if that’s what you want to do.”

“No.  Let me just sit on this one.”  I was shocked.  Here I was: feeling angry because my wife had “allowed” this to happen, and embarrassed at my reaction.  I, the dyed-in-the-wool white liberal was upset because our angel was black.  What a stunner for me. I reflected on it all for awhile, and then went over to E and told her it was the prettiest angel I had ever seen.  I asked her to help me put it on top of the tree, and we did.

That angel is starting its nineteenth year on top of that tree.  She has witnessed many happy moments, and overheard many surprised comments from house guests.  My in-laws and family never really said anything directly to me; however, they said plenty about it to others. That beautiful black angel has heard it all, and she sits peacefully once again in her treetop perch radiating love to all who are willing.

And that is a lesson that this white liberal has never forgotten, and is reminded of every year.

Best wishes to all for a peaceful holiday season.