Secret Angel

When I was in sixth grade, our class decided to do a Secret Angel Christmas. We all put our names in a hat and drew someone else's name. The idea was that we were supposed to do little acts of kindness and thoughtfulness throughout the month of December, culminating in a small gift at the class party when you would discover who your Secret Angel was. It was kind of exciting! You could choose to do as little or as much as you wanted.

I hoped I would get the name of one of my best friends - Janice or Sandy. I reached into the hat and drew out my name and peeked carefully to make sure I hadn't drawn my own name. My heart fell when I saw whose name I had drawn. Karen was the dumbest, yuckiest kid in class. No one liked her. No one, not even the teacher. We all sort of tolerated her, and the sad part was that she didn't know how we felt about her, even when we were downright rude to her.

This wasn't going to be any fun at all. It was a sure thing that she wouldn't appreciate anything I did for her. She could barely see out of her cokebottle glasses, she smelled horrible, and most of the time there was snot hanging from her nose. I pouted all the way home on the bus.

Well, I could probably get away with just giving her something at the party. Maybe something I was tired of. I was so down about the angel thing that I hadn't even thought about who might have drawn my name. I was totally surprised by the little envelope in my locker the next day with an adorable friendship bracelet carefully wrapped in tissue paper. It made my heart sing.

During first period, I put it on and missed most of math class admiring the beautiful turquoise and purple colors. Just as the lesson was ending, I glanced over at Karen. She was sitting with her head down, not paying much attention either. I felt sorry for her. Almost everyone had gotten something from their secret angel except her. No one had given her anything. I don't know if she noticed it or not, but the rest of the class knew. There were whispers going on behind hands, nods in her direction, laughter. I felt terrible. I knew I couldn't let the day pass without doing something for Karen.

I thought about it a lot. I didn't really have anything to give her except my lunch money. I rarely ever bought lunch, but for some reason that day, I had enough money to buy lunch. I thought about it a lot. If I gave my lunch to Karen, I would have to go without. It was only one meal, and I could eat at 3 when I got home. I finally decided to do it. I convinced one of the lunchroom ladies to tell Karen that she had won a free lunch.

I don't know what I expected. I thought she would be excited and happy and grateful - something. But all she did was take the tray, go off in the corner, and gobble it down. No one even knew of my sacrifice. I was disgusted. That was it. That was the last time I did anything for my "angel".

That night I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned and tried not to think about it. But I just couldn't put Karen out of my mind. Why was she like she was? What was her family like? Didn't they know that they should send her to school in clean clothes with her hair washed? It wasn't MY fault she was crummy and unkempt.

But I just couldn't get away from the fact that I was supposed to be nice to her. How do you be nice to someone you don't know! I tried to think what I could do that would make her feel special. It would have been easy to think of those things for my friends. I knew what they had and what they liked and how to please them. But I knew nothing about Karen.

The next day, I made a lacy card with a picture of a cat on it and put it in her locker. Then I watched her all day to see if I could learn enough about her to do something that she would like. I was surprised at how alone she was. During recess, we all scattered to various places, and she sat alone. During lunch, we saved each other seats at the same table, and she stood in a corner by herself. When the teacher got called out of the room, we all passed each other notes, and she just looked out the window. Man. This was hard!

I spent the next two weeks watching her reaction to the little gifts and surprises I sent her way. Some made no impact, some she threw away, some she stuffed in her pocket. Nothing seemed to get her attention or make her smile. The day of the party was approaching, and I was still clueless as to what to give her. I overheard several unkind conversations among my friends about Karen and how sorry they felt for whomever Karen's secret angel was. She had probably not done anything for them.

In the end, I went to Woolworth's and got her a cheap doll for a gift. I didn't have the nerve to sign my name. Better she not know who her secret angel had been. It was a crushing disappointment not to have figured out anything to make her happy, even when I actually wanted to.

The only good thing I can say about the whole ordeal is that I tried to be nicer to her after that. Sometimes I stood next to her on the playground and tried to talk to her. I shared my lunch with her a few times. I picked her once for my spelling bee team. After sixth grade, she moved away, I never knew where.

My failure at being a good secret angel stuck with me. Maybe I should thank Karen for making me aware of the people who seem to be left out of things. In a way, it was secret angel in reverse. I didn't do much for her, but she sure opened my eyes. I wonder if she has any idea.