Two months ago, I was driving through a small upstate New York town on the way to Saratoga Springs to see a doctor. I pulled off the road to rest and stretch my legs, and I saw an abandoned old store with a wooden rack on it and there, sitting on the top, was a small blue angel.

An elderly man was sweeping up in front of the shop, I asked him about the angel, and he said he was taking it and the box it was sitting on to the dump. His shop had gone out of business and he’d retired. “Take it,” he said, “it’s yours.” I offered him a $5 bill for it, and he accepted.

He said he knew nothing about it, other than that it had been on a shelf in his store for years, and nobody wanted to buy it.

I was glad to rescue an angel, it seemed dangerous to throw one in the trash, I believe in angels, and I think I know how nasty they can be when ignored or disrespected.

I couldn’t quite figure out the expression on the face of this one, he/she seemed thoughtful, even angry. I brought her home and forgot about her, of course, until yesterday when she turned up in a pile of stuff on the dining room table, a repository for stuff in our house.

I took her outside and took a photo of her. I can’t really make sense of her, except I think she belongs with us. I’m hoping she appreciates being saved from the dump.

Tennesse Williams said if he ever got rid of his demons, he’d lose his angels, and I know what he means.

Maybe she’d like to live in my study.

This morning, I’m off to Bishop Maginn High School for a visit. Next week, I begin teaching my Writing Workshop there. Later.