My Grandma rocks. She's had, for many years, a little tin or aluminum statue of a black angel. It was funny looking and, anyway, who ever heard of a black angel? they're always white and shiny and pure. Therefore, my Grandma who, as has already been mentioned, rocks, made up a story about him which now gets read every Christmas eve. It now makes all of us cry because it very much captures my Grandmother's sweet, humble, servant's heart. Enjoy below...
The Black Angel
Once, long
ago, when a message went out through all the heavens that the Almighty had a
special task for angels, there was much excitement. Everyone washed his robe, shined his halo and
fluffed his wings until he sparkled with freshness.
The angel
choirs practiced their scales until each note was clear and true. The trumpeters
and harpists sounded their beautiful music until the stars vibrated with the
ecstasy of it. Such hurrying – such
scurrying. The heavens buzzed with wondering what the task would be and each
wished that he might be chosen for the most important job.
One angel,
newer than all the rest, stood apart from the others. He shined with eagerness and with the newness
of his robes and halo. He was still a little clumsy with his wings but “patience,
patience”, he told himself, and “practice makes perfect”.
Each angel
had taken a small slip of paper from the task board where it had been fastened
with a shiny golden tack. The new angel
had not yet found his special talent, so he had held back until there was just
one little slip left. Several angels looked at the slip and then their shiny
white robes and drifted away, looking around sheepishly to see if anyone was
watching. “Perhaps this is something that I can do,” thought the new angel, “something
small and simple.” He read the note. PREPARE A NEW STAR FOR LAUNCHING. Now,
star preparation is a dirty and arduous task. It requires much shining and
polishing – much crawling in corners and crevices. “I will try,” he said, “I’m
sure this takes more muscle than mind, more perseverance than experience. I
will try.”
He found
the star to be prepared and worked diligently through the day. When dusk began
to fall, the new star sparkled and gleamed but, oh, the new angel. Dust and
dirt clung to every inch of his robes and wings – his hands and face were black
with grime. The golden bells rang out. At last everyone would know why this night was to be so special. The
announcement was made. This would be the most special night in history. The
night of the Savior’s birth. The choirs were called for, the trumpeters and
harpists assembled, messenger angels given their messages and the star called
for. The star! Who had prepared the star? How were the angels to know that the star
was to guide everyone to the Christ child’s birth? No one had prepared the
star. Everyone had ignored the notice because it meant soiling his clean robes
and dirtying his hands.
The newest
angel stepped forward shyly. “My Lord,” he said softly, “the star is ready. I did
the best I could.”
The
Almighty spoke. “Because of your devotion to duty, my son, you shall have the
singular honor of guiding the star this night.”
The
greatest honor was his and he was dirty - his robes and wings soiled and black.
The Almighty noticed his hesitation. There is no need to worry about your
appearance, for you shall become a special favorite to be thanked each
Christmas Eve as long as men remember this Holy Night. An angel to be
remembered because the task was not too humble or too difficult for you to do –
you shall be called “The Black Angel”
And so it
is that each Christmas Eve we set out the black angel to remind us that the
simple, humble hobs we do to prepare for the day that we celebrate the coming
of the Christ Child can often be the most important.
