There was this tiny little girl sitting all by herslef in the park. Everyone passed her by, and no one bothered to stop to see why she looked so sad, or why she was alone. Dressed only in a very worn, tattered, faded pink dress, barefoot and dirty, the little girl just sat and watched all the busy people pass her by.
She never tried to speak. She never said a word. As she quietly sat on the park bench, passers-by simply walked on, too busy with their own lives to care about this pitiful, lonely waif.
The next day I decided to return to the park to see if the little girl was still there. To my surprise, she remained in the very same spot, and still with those huge, mournful eyes staring into space as no one paid scant attention to her. I decided I would intervene today; after all, someone should be concerned about such a small child alone in a public park full of strangers. As I approached, I could see the back of the little girl's filthy pink dress. It was grotesquely shaped. Perhaps that was why people ignored her, I thought. Those with deformities (or flaws, or shortcomings, or poverty, or retardation, or disabilities, or other 'differences') in our society are often neglected or avoided. God forbid we would make a step toward assisting anyone who was "different" than us. As I got closer, the little girl lowered her eyes in shame; I could see the shape of her back more clearly now. She was oddly shaped in a humped-over form. I smiled to let know it was okay, hoping she wouldn't be afraid. I sat down beside her, and said, "Hello."
The little girl acted shocked, and stammered, "Hi" in a voice hardly audible. Afer a long stare, she smiled shyly and I returned a soft smile. We talked until darkness fell, and the park emptied. I asked, "Why are you so sad?" Quietly, she replied, "Because I'm different."
Immediately, I said, "That you are! In fact, you remind me of an angel...sweet and innocent." She looked into my eyes, then slowly got to her feet and said, "Really?" Her smile broadened as I continued, "Yes, you're like a little guardian angel sent to watch over all these people that walk by everyday," I announced. She nodded in modest agreement, and smiled again. With that, she opened the back of her dirty pink dress and - to my complete awe - the ugly "hump" on her back became beautiful white angel wings. She spread her wings and said, "I am!" I was speechless - certain I was hallucinating! "I am your guardian angel," she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "For once you thought of someone other than yourself. My job here is done!"
Awestruck and still in a state of wonderment, I asked, "But why wouldn't anyone stop to help an angel?" She smiled at me, and replied, "You're the only one that could see me." And then she was gone, disappeared into the atmosphere. With that, my life changed dramatically, and I realized that I was put here on Earth for a purpose. Not to serve one's self, but to be of service to others.
Some might call this a Christmas story; others might call it a fantasy. But it's a story that's been passed down through the ages in all kinds of cultures and in many societies. It's strange how all human beings like to talk about their goodness, and want so very much to be "good" people...but somehow rudiments of power, prestige, and personal wealth become the standards by which we live our lives...and the basis of our very being on this Earth becomes lost.
Even organized religion had become mired in the muck of "bigness". It wasn't enough for residents of a small rural town to worship in their tiny one-room white chapel. They had to be part of an ecclesiastical body, an eccumenical council, a synod, or a larger organization. There wasn't room for little girls in faded pink dresses, even in the rectory of "the church".
"The larger any organization, corporation, or government gets, the less manageable it becomes, and the fewer people benefit from it."
O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had destroyed the 'big" monoliths that man had built in worship of his own egoism. Hopefully, as the nation reformed itself, "big" would be measured by the magnanimity of the man instead of the pomposity of his power. Perhaps our society would start taking more notice of little girls in tattered pink dresses.