My Friends,
Sadly this tale is not a yarn. It is a true story, one that I’m not proud of. I was nine when hallowed inspiration struck. This creative shining moment in 1972 continues to cause me pangs of guilt. Even now I await delivery of a Time Machine ordered on Amazon, so I might return to the scene of my crime – the moment I lied for an angel.

My Grandmother’s Closet
My grandmother had her own bedroom in our home. It was a magical place. There was candy and small treasures wrapped in gift paper in her dresser. In the walk-in closet, she kept packages of Wrigley’s. The gum often called to me. I occasionally answered by sneaking a stick or two hoping it would never be missed. It never was. I thought myself clever.

The Inspiration
It was nearing Christmas – that most magical time in ‘kiddom.’ I can’t recall why I needed gum this particular morning but I did. I tiptoed into Grandma’s room and into the big closet. While borrowing a stick of gum, I heard footsteps and was forced to wait. As I held my breath, I began perusing Grandma’s knitting supplies. This closet was loaded with rainbow balls of wool and oodles of parchment patterns. Some wool was in balls while other threads were wrapped around cardboard cones. With my laser vision, I saw naked cones – I saw angels.

The Crime
In the blindness of inspired excitement, I threw caution to the wind. I took two large wool skeins and unravelled both until I held two precious cardboard cones in my thieving hands. I was going to make angels. There were swatches of fabric in our attic. One in particular, a beautiful light blue with silver and gold threads would be perfect for my angels’ gowns and the metallic pipe cleaners in my room could be fashioned into halos and wings.

The Lie
I cleverly concealed the heaping wool piles behind Grandma’s shoes. With the evidence camouflaged so was the crime. How did Grandma find the displaced wool so quickly? Hadn’t I been stealth? Hadn’t I swiped gum without a single repercussion ever? With five other siblings, there might be a chance to frame someone else, or I could outright lie when prosecuted. I remember Grandma calling me into her room and pointing to the woolen spaghetti. I remember her asking me if I unravelled the wool. I remember, with Christmas only weeks away, lying for an angel.

The Guilt
I don’t know what became of the first angel. The second, wearing a doily gown (there wasn’t enough blue fabric) remains with me. She hangs in my studio always nearby. I never admitted my crime to Grandma. And whenever I look at my cone angel she whispers, “Grandma knew all along. She kept the first angel, the one with the beautiful gown of blue, because she thought her precious.”
Thank you. Dream of being the most honest version of yourself you can be 🙂

HAPPINESS AND PEACE IN THIS NEW YEAR, MY FRIENDS