Angels among us

By Paulette Tobin

5/24/01

Have you ever had one of those days when nothing goes right and everyone you meet seems to have taken a nasty pill? I remember a day some months back when everyone at home was surly and everyone at work seemed rude and annoying. On my way home that evening, I bought myself some tacos for dinner. After I pulled through the fast-food window, I realized that the nicest, kindest person I had met all day was the guy who took my order and handed me my food at Taco Belle. In his humble way, that guy had brightened my crummy day. For the two or three minutes we interacted, he was my angel.

I believe in angels, not in the cutesy, greeting card way, but in the Biblical way, as in the angels who were God's messengers and his right arm. I believe in angels who come into our lives with comfort, humor and kindness to help us be strong. And I believe that our family members, friends and even strangers can be angels in our lives, and that we can bless this world (and ourselves) by being angels to others.

Among the angels in my life were the girlfriends I had at Eureka High School. They are a part of my happiest memories. They supported me and sympathized with me and made me laugh through the disappointments and heartaches that came with being a teen-ager. I remember the late-night drives and the nights parked out at the lake looking at the stars and the times we shut ourselves into someone's bedroom to play the Rolling Stones real loud and sneak a cigarette or two. Perhaps rock music and sneaking smokes doesn't fit your definition of angelic behavior, but those friends were certainly angels to me.

One of the low spots in my life came in 1979, when I was 24 years old and working at the Mitchell Daily Republic. I didn't like Mitchell and I didn't like my job, and, although I had friends, I felt very much alone. I was struggling to make ends meet and I felt like a failure. Then one day I got a call from Julie Krein, who'd been a couple of years behind me in high school. I hadn't heard from Julie in ages, but she was passing through Mitchell and wanted to see me. In the few hours we spent together, eating cheap Chinese food, talking and laughing, Julie was an angel to me. Her company and encouragement really brightened my outlook and somehow, after her visit, things seemed to get better for me.

My sister, June, has been an angel to me so many times. When I was starting out at my first job (as editor of the Wells County Free Press in Fessenden, N.D.), I had left home with an old car, my clothes and some of my mother's old Melmac dishes. I probably had $100 to my name, and was living in a furnished apartment. One day a giant package came in the mail. It was an apartment shower in a box: New bedding, including sheets and bedspread, pretty stoneware dishes for two and many more useful and fun household items. Everything had a little note attached, including one on an extension cord, that said: "No apartment ever has enough electrical outlets." It was the perfect gesture to someone starting out in life. But then June always seems to know the right thing to do, and, as an added benefit, is the funniest person I know. All angels should have a wicked sense of humor.

I am blessed with a big, extended wonderful family, and I can think of many times when members of my family have been angels in my life. This week we lost one of our angels, Henry Hilgemann of Eureka, who was married to my mother's cousin, Deloris. Henry and Deloris are two of my favorite people. They are the kind of couple who, when the cousins came to town, would make dinner and invite everyone. When anyone in the family needed help, they were the first ones at the door. Last summer, just a few days before our family gathered for the Wolff reunion, Henry was diagnosed with cancer. Despite the distressing news, he had a great time at the reunion he and Deloris had spent so much time helping to plan. He was the first guy dancing when the accordion player arrived. We're going to miss Henry's sense of humor and fun whenever our family gathers, and Eureka will miss him, too, for all he did for the American Legion post, the Schmeckfest committee and at the old-time music jam sessions, which bring hundreds of people to Eureka every month.

It doesn't take the grand gesture, or big bucks, or any fanfare at all to be an angel. It's in the humble things we do, and in our attitudes. Whenever I'm feeling like I swallowed the nasty pill, I try to remember that my attitude could make a real difference in someone else's day, perhaps even in their life.

(Paulette Haupt Tobin graduated from EHS in 1973. Today she lives in Grand Forks, N.D., and is a reporter for the Grand Forks Herald. You can e-mail her at tobin@infi.net.)