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in September to open our accounts at the school bank. She said it was best to be thrifty, and we would have something when we grew up. The day to leave was fast approaching. The last day of school was three days till Christmas. Then it happened—the miracle. Miss Maude was up in front of our class. On her lace collar she had a pin with a blue stone. Her cheeks were pink and she was pretty. In front of her on the desk were white boxes. Each one had a Christmas sticker and a name on it. When everyone sat down she called each of us up and gave us our box. When we all had them she said, "Now my dear ones, you may open them." No one had ever called me a dear one. I looked at her with admiration and amazement. Carefully we opened the boxes. Inside, wonder of wonders, there was a Christmas angel. Her head was a taffy with a beautiful face from the Sears catalog pasted on. Her arms and legs were stick candy. She had beautiful wings of lace paper doilies, a dress of glistening cellophane and a tinsel bow in her floss hair. None of us had ever owned such a being. I know our faces showed our appreciation, and being her she understood. Her pink cheeks got pinker and we saw tears on her cheeks. The angel stayed with me for many years, till after I was married. By then she was a mass of melted candy. The miracle was in my heart, forever the beacon of hope and belief I would never lose. At seventyfive , I still have Miss Maude with me. She did so much for us children when there was nothing but hopelessness in our lives. Some day I know I'll see her again. Until then I try to whisper my love for her in a prayer now and then. But she already knows that. Taking a Meeting in the Country Blocking the curve, two pickups idle, rumbling. Two elbows protrude, two ball caps bob. We wait, then wave at the big silly grin. —Mark DeFoe 18 ...

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