The Blanket of Blessings Page 4

The next few months went on fairly routinely. School, homework, dinner, dishes, and then working on her blanket.

  One wintry December day, a few weeks before Christmas, Angie was putting on her coat, preparing to head home after school. Most of the other children had already left the little schoolhouse ahead of her.

  “Are you still making that ugly blanket?” Pearl asked her. Betsy was standing at her side.

  “It’s not ugly,” Angie returned her smirk. “And it’s going to win a ribbon at the Boone County Fair next summer. Maybe even a blue ribbon!”

  “If it’s as ugly as your mother’s blankets, they’ll use it for the hogs to sleep on!” Pearl grinned.

  The anger built up quickly inside Angie, and she forgot all about her mother’s words to be kind to Pearl. She no longer wanted to ‘kill Pearl with kindness’, she just wanted to shut her up, and with that thought, she balled up her fist and hit Pearl with all the strength she could muster, right in the stomach. Pearl bent over and fell to her knees. She screamed with more surprise than pain and yelled “Miss O’Brien! Angie Owens just hit me!”

  Miss O’Brien came running to the back of the classroom.

  What happened here?” their teacher asked as she helped Pearl to her feet.

  “She hit me in the stomach!” Pearl exclaimed as she pointed at Angie.

  “She did!” Betsy agreed, “I saw her!”

  Angie just stood silent, surprised at her sudden reaction to Pearl’s mean words.

  “Are you alright?” Miss O’Brien asked Pearl.

  “I don’t think so,” Pearl answered, “but I could be dying.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you are dying,” Miss O’Brien smiled, “but I think I’d better help you home. Angie, stay here. I want to talk to you when I get back.”

  Pearl and Betsy gave Angie long cold glares as they walked out of the classroom with Miss O’Brien. Pearl stuck her tongue out at Angie and then relished the thought that Angie was going to get her just rewards now.

  Angie slowly sank in a nearby chair and began to think about the consequences that were sure to come. The minutes seemed to drag on forever. The longer she sat there, the more afraid she became. Tears began to stream down her face.

  Momma was right, Angie thought, Sticks and stones won’t break my bones, and I should’ve been nice and just ignored Pearl. Now I’m in big trouble. I’ll be punished for sure!

  It seemed like a very long time, but when Miss O’Brien returned to the classroom with an earful from Mrs. Hubbard, she was determined to put Angie in her place. Angie heard her enter the room behind her and began to sob.

  The sight of the little girl’s repentance softened Miss O’Brien’s heart, and she quietly sat down next to Angie.

  “Tell me what happened.” She leaned next to Angie and looked into her face.

  Between sobs and tears, Angie tried to say, “She said some really mean things about my momma and it hurt my feelings. She has no right to say those things. Pearl makes me so mad and my momma is good and kind and Pearl hates me and…”

  “Alright,” Miss O’Brien put her arm around Angie. “Calm down now. Let’s talk about this, reasonably.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Angie wailed, “I don’t know why I did that. Momma told me to be nice to her. I should’ve listened to my momma.”

  “Yes, yes,” her teacher agreed as she handed Angie her handkerchief, “It’s good you realize the seriousness of this offense. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Now listen to me.”

  Angie tried as hard as she could to stop crying and she tried to stifle her sniffles in the white cloth.

  “Pearl is quite alright. But you did take the wind right out of her,” Miss O’Brien told Angie. “Her mother is in such a snit and is demanding retribution.”

  “What’s that?” Angie looked up at her teacher in fear.

  “Punishment,” Miss O’Brien gently told her.

  Tears began to flow again from Angie’s eyes.

  “Now, now,” her teacher said, “It won’t be as bad as all that. But you must promise me that it’ll never happen again!”

  “It won’t,” Angie said, “I promise!”

  “Alright then.” The kindly teacher accepted her promise, “You’ll need to stay after school for the next week and help me clean chalkboards and straighten the room. A good sweeping will also be in order.”

  Angie nodded her head and handed the handkerchief back to her.

  “Good. Now get along home and let your mother and father know what went on here today.”

  “Yes, Miss O’Brien,” Angie said as she rose to her feet, suddenly realizing that she was going to have to explain to her parents what she’d done. The dread was rushing through her little body and she wondered what would await her at home.

  All the way home, Angie practiced what she was going to say to her parents, trying to justify her actions. Surely they’ll agree with her.

  When she entered her house, it was apparent that Mrs. Hubbard had been to see her mother again. Her parents sat in the living room waiting for her.

  “Go upstairs,” William instructed Billy. Billy jumped to his feet and obediently ran up the stairs to his room.

  Fear crossed Angie’s face as she stared at the sternness in her parents’ expressions.

  “She said some mean things about you momma!” Angie blurted out.

  “You’ve gone too far this time.” Her father was grieved.

  “I didn’t mean to hit her, honest!” Angie tried to explain “It’s just that she made me so mad! I was trying to defend…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” William stopped her. “You must learn that you cannot hit people, no matter who it is or what they’ve done.”

  Angie’s eyes dropped to the floor and she realized that all her excuses were not going to ease her parents’ anger.

  “Sorry,” was all Angie could say and the dread of punishment overwhelmed her.

  “We’ve decided we’ll have to take your yarn away from you. No more blanket for the fair next year.”

  “But daddy!” Angie protested, “I’m almost half done with it! I’ve been dreaming about the fair for months!”

  “Sorry, Angie,” her father responded, “but that’s your punishment. Perhaps next time, you’ll think twice about your actions before you get yourself into trouble.”

  Angie ran upstairs and threw herself on her bed, tears beginning to flow again.

  Soon her mother called the children for dinner, but Angie didn’t leave her bedroom. Her father appeared in her doorway, “Your dinner is on the table. Come on, we’re waiting for you.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Angie said with her head buried in her pillow.

  “Suit yourself,” William said. “But you’ll still need to do the dishes after we’re done eating.” Angie then heard him walk down the stairs.

  Angie beat her fists into her pillow and sobbed, this has been the worst day of my life!

  The next day at school, Pearl grinned at Angie, “Did you get punished?”

  Angie refused to say anything and walked past her, finding her place at her desk.

  Pearl walked up to her. “Well, did you, you awful brat?!”

  Again, Angie refused to acknowledge her and just stared straight ahead at the blackboard.

  “You’re being very rude,” Pearl leaned over and said in Angie’s ear, “Or are you just stupid?”

  “Pearl,” Miss O’Brien said as she entered the classroom, “find your seat. Class is starting now.”

  The teacher watched Pearl straighten herself and smugly walk away to the other side of the room. Miss O’Brien was a little disturbed to see Pearl’s attitude and determined that she would keep a closer watch on Pearl from then on.

  At the end of the school day, Angie was getting ready to leave when she noticed Pearl, Betsy, and Susanna waiting outside. She assumed they were waiting for her, to give her more grief. Susanna was known as the local tomboy and loved to fight the best of the boys in class. Miss O’Brien also notic
ed the girls standing by the bottom of the steps as she glanced over Angie’s head.

  “Angie. Remember, you need to erase the chalkboards tonight,” her teacher said, “and the broom sits over there.”

  Angie looked relieved and hung her coat back up, “Yes, Miss O’Brien. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  She immediately went up to the blackboard and began to erase the day’s lesson. Every few moments Angie would glance out the window to see if the girls were still standing there. By the time she picked up the broom, she was surprised to see the girls still outside, but by now they were beginning to shiver with the cold.

  Serves them right, Angie thought, May the weather be as cold as their hearts!

  She began to sweep the dirt across the floor. The next time she glanced out the window, she realized the girls had left. She stood for a moment, looking carefully out through the frosty glass, making sure that they had definitely gone.

  Miss O’Brien was sitting at her desk, grading the day’s papers, and watched Angie as she stared out the window.

  “Are you quite done?” she asked Angie.

  “Almost,” Angie answered and began sweeping very quickly now.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” Miss O’Brien remarked, “You’d best be on your way home now. You can finish sweeping after school tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Miss O’Brien” Angie said as she set the broom in the corner, grabbed her coat and books, and ran to the door.

  “Good night, Miss O’Brien,” Angie waved, “I’ll see you tomorrow.

  “Good night, Angie,” Miss O’Brien smiled.

  The days after that, Miss O’Brien kept a close eye on Pearl, and did what she could to keep her away from Angie.

  Christmas was just around the corner and Angie was struggling, trying to find gifts for her family. She no longer asked about her blanket or her yarn. She knew it would be a long time before she would ever see them again. But she could not blame her parents.

  It’s my own fault for acting so stupid. Mother had warned me and I didn’t listen.

  She stayed close to her parents and the McKennas at church, and even Pastor Johnson seemed to watch out for her. There were always a few snide remarks from Cora after church service, but her parents would just smile and nod and be on their way. Angie tried to follow their example, giving Pearl a quick smile and ignoring Pearl’s icy stare.

  “I’m proud of you,” her mother said as they were setting the table for Sunday dinner.

  Angie looked up at her with a confused look on her face.

  “You’ve been acting very grown up lately, refusing to let Pearl make you angry. I’m very pleased and so is your father,” Faith told her.

  Angie smiled, “I’m trying very hard, momma.”

  “I know you are,” her mother returned her smile. “I’m sure God is very pleased with you too. He’s watching you, you know.”

  The smile left Angie’s face as she began to contemplate the idea of God’s judgment.

  “Do you think He really is pleased with me?” Angie asked.

  “Yes I do, dear,” her mother told her, “I heard you pray for forgiveness when you said your bedtime prayers several weeks ago, and you’re truly trying to make a change. That is all that can be expected of you.”

  Angie felt a sense of relief and a warm feeling flowed through her heart. And she felt her smile return to her face.

  After school the next day, Miss O’Brien asked Angie to empty the wastebaskets. The trash needed to go out to the burn barrel. As she was getting ready to dump the first wastebasket, she saw different colors of paper that had been tossed. She brought them back into the classroom and asked her teacher if she could have them.

  “Of course,” Miss O’Brien answered, “but what are you going to do with them?”

  “I want to make Christmas presents out of them,” Angie beamed.

  “By all means,” Miss O’Brien smiled, “Have as much paper as you need.”

  When she arrived home that late afternoon, she dropped her coat on the chair in the living room and ran up to her room. She then spread all the colored papers out on her bed.

  “Angie,” her mother called upstairs, “you left your coat on the chair again. Come back downstairs and put it away now. You know you can’t leave it there.”

  Angie ran down the stairs, put away her coat and then returned as quickly as she could to her bedroom.

  “Angie,” her mother called again, “are you alright?”

  “Yes, momma,” she answered, “I just have a lot of homework to do.”

  She then separated all the colors and began to imagine a beautiful work of art, all made in a mosaic pattern. In her mind’s eye, she saw her home, the little shed out back, the large maple tree out front and the fruit trees in back. Vegetables in the garden, flowers in the window boxes, and the neighbor’s cat on their front porch. The cat was at their house more often than at its own home. The picture brought a smile to her face.

  After dinner, while drying dishes, she asked her mother if she could borrow the pair of scissors.

  “Scissors?” her mother asked. “And what are you making?”

  “A Christmas present,” Angie answered, “I can’t tell you what it is.”

  “I see,” Faith smiled. “Well, yes, in that case, you can borrow the scissors.”

  “Can you show me how to make paste then?” Angie asked eagerly.

  “Tonight?” her mother asked.

  “Tomorrow will be alright,” Angie answered.

  Her mother agreed and Angie returned upstairs. Angie’s picture kept running through her mind, and she looked through the colored paper one more time before putting it away for the night.

  After school the next day, Angie went out to the woodshed and found a wooden plank that had been cast aside. She was very pleased at the size and shape and wiped the dirt from it.

  When her father came home that night, she asked him if she could have the piece of wood and he nodded in agreement, not really paying attention to her request. He had many other things on his mind lately and barely had time for his family. The General Store had been busy with the holidays just a few days away and William was concerned about providing a good Christmas for his family.

  Her mother kept her promise to show Angie how to make paste, and with a small bowl full of the newly made white concoction, Angie carefully carried it up to her room. With the scissors, Angie cut out different sized pieces of colored paper and began to fit them together on her piece of wood. Angie had an unusual talent for art and her grasp of creativity was growing with her age. She loved to let her imagination be expressed in her drawings. Besides working on her blanket, artwork was her favorite pastime and creating beautiful things with her hands gave Angie a great deal of self-worth. She dreamed of one day being as gifted as her mother.

 

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