Struan 1965 - Adm.monash.edu.au

Jean AuldistThat little boy looked so disappointed. Only two minutes ago he was walkingproudly home, balancing in his muggy hands a white and glittering silver angel.He was thinking about where he could hide it 'til Christmas day. But now hewould not have it to hide. The rain came.When I saw Freddie I though, "Poor kid. Nearly home and the rain just caughth' rrn, "When Freddie's mum saw him she thought, and said: "You little devil whydidn't you hurry, Your shirt's all wet and so are your pants and what's thatscrewed-up mess in your grubby hands? Go and get dry at once-I wish youwouldn't dawdlel"Freddie thought: "1 tried so hard . It's no good telling her what it was for. "Freddie was hopeless at most things. Just average at handwork, but generallysomething went wrong somewhere. You know how one has a wonderful ideaof how to make something? A car that will really go (but the cotton reels won'treally turn); a happy, funny clown (but the mouth seems to look sad, not funny);or an angel that looks really holy and beautiful and ethereal.Freddie didn't know the words ethereal and holy, nor did he understand whatthe angel's message meant:"Glory to God in the highest ... peace on earth . . . men of goodwill .. ."But th is angel really worked. It was lovely . It shone. The glitter sparked. Abit of c1ag dribbled down the back and the wings were somewhat crooked, butnevertheless it was beautiful. It was clean and well-made.The teacher said, "Take it home to Mummy, Freddie, as a Christmas present.""But what if she sees it1" said Freddie. "Hide it somewhere, just until Christmas."It was an awfully hot day. The green trees in the park were tempting. ButFreddie went stra ight home. He walked slowly, his beautiful angel balanced inhis hands so as not to spoil it. Every now and again he stopped and adjustedthe slightly crooked wings.The angel seemed to suddenly gain an eerie radiance in the sunlight, whichbecame queerly white as the sun peered out from behind enormous threateninggrey and black clouds. The light faded, the clouds darkened. The atmospherethickened and changed. Still the angel shone white.Then it rained . One spot. Two drops. Splish, splash, spit, spat, plit plop. Thesky burst open and poured forth great tears. How could those Iittle hands coverthose stately wings they had made?• • • • •PERFECTIONThe word slips easily from my mouth, before I even think.Perfection is a sound so sweet, yet makes our high hopes sink.How can a man, a mortal man, hope to achieve such heights,And walk a path untrod by man in wisdom and in light?Oh, only God, Himself, who is perfection, can explainIf man can gain the mental strength to do away all pain.-T. W. LEE.45