about angels

In the corner of the park on San Julian and 5th St. on Skid Row in Los Angeles, California, is an angel. As the morning sun shone on the old brick building that was parallel to the street, the ivy shone a deep shade of green, the leaves holding the light like a child holding a precious gift. The westerly wall, a faded cream color, probably ‘Swiss White Mocha’ or another factory option with an equally appealing name to it, created a casual corner for empty benches and dead shrubberies which lined it. By the gate, the proverbial scent of marijuana and grape bubble gum infuses the air. It took me five months to notice this angel, but when I finally did, it changed my life.
Just outside the park, on the bus stop sign a woman hangs and dangles. She is one of many women who often keep themselves up by holding on to this not-so-sturdy post. When I stop to wonder and really think about who these women are and what they might need, I am often baffled at the seemingly impossible means through which they are forced to survive. My heart aches for a moment in the beauty of the day and the sorrow before me; then she stops, and smiles at me, so I smile back, because it is all that I have to give, and I am reminded of the angel in the corner, and remember that angels don’t always show their wings.
Turning the next corner onto San Pedro, walking towards Union Rescue Mission, and the building where our after-school program meets, watching my feet, being sure not to step on the cracks, because, Aaliyah, one of the Kindergarteners in our program says that one should not step on them, I watch as a stray drop of spit from the man yelling obscenities hits my shoe. It could be worse, I think as I continue walking, wondering if I’m late. The man went on and on about the injustices in Los Angeles, the United States, the world. He stopped for a moment when he got to Africa, and then shouted, “But there is hope! There is hope!” I smiled as Pete Seeger sang, “We shall overcome” in my headphones. There he stood, yet another angel on the corner, shouting for justice, and proclaiming hope where it is so desperately needed.
As I walked into the building thinking of all the mess that is this world we live in, I got excited to see Bam Bam, Aaliyah’s older brother who is autistic and has ADHD. Bam Bam is unable to participate daily in our program, but he stops by at the end of every day with his mother to pick up his younger sister. I have known him for about 5 months now. He used to run in, wreaking havoc however he could, slamming doors, turning lights off or on, hitting people, throwing things, etc… Knowing that there was little I personally could do to keep him from doing these things, I decided to try talking to him, asking him silly questions, knowing full well that he might never verbalise his answers to me. That day, walking into our building, it was so exciting to walk into our building and remember Bam Bam playing with his favorite game, “Let’s Go Fishin,” and yelling, “Bishy!” (his version of my name, Misty) when I walked in. The smile on his face sincere and mischievous, I wondered what he might do. Expecting him to run around and throw a fish at someone, or to turn the lights off, I was so pleasantly surprised when he ran up and hugged me, and then returned to his game in the corner by himself. With the hood of his oversized sweatshirt hanging on his crouched back, for a moment, it almost looked as if Bam Bam had a wing, and was preparing to take flight towards the heavens.
These angels remind me each day of the beauty that exists in this world. That, though sometimes a situations may appear dire or intimidating, with patience and a smile, and the willingness to notice and pay attention to what often seems unimportant, we might be reminded that there is in fact hope, a great deal of it in fact.