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Amazing Gracie MaeBy Katelyn Lamson It is springtime. The wind is chilly this morning. The cool, crisp air whips my face as I stroll through the newly grown grass. My eyes sting from the bitter cold, but I press on. The red rose clutched in my hand trembles lightly in the breeze. At last I reach my destination. I stand before a black marble headstone. I trace the letters written in gold on the headstone’s surface: Gracie Mae. My eyes burn and I feel a hard, painful lump growing in my throat. As I let the tears fall, I feel the familiar pangs of grief and regret that have plagued me for the last fifteen years. My memories of her come rushing back and the lump in my throat aches even more. My name is Celia, and these are my memories of the angel that was Gracie Mae. I met Gracie Mae on our first day of preschool. If I had had my way, I would never have gone to preschool that morning. I shrieked and kicked as my mother pulled me out the front door. “NO! I don’t want to go, Mommy! Please don’t make me go!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. The thought of having to socialize with children my own age was absolutely terrifying to a child as shy as me. “Stop fussing now, Celia!” my mother said wearily “No, Mommy, please!” I pleaded, my eyes brimming with tears. Ms. Bisbee, our busy-body neighbor, stormed out of her house, wearing hair curlers and a pink bathrobe, as my mother wrestled me into the back seat of our car. Even the fuzzy white bunnies on her pink slippers seemed to look disapprovingly at me with their black, beady eyes. She told my mother that she should do better to keep her daughter under control, and that this was a residential neighborhood, not a zoo. She warned that if she ever heard such a racket again, she would call the authorities. My mother sighed as she watched the woman go. With much difficulty, she was able to buckle me into the seat. I sulked the whole way there, tears of dread falling down my face. Once outside the classroom, my mother said: “Now, I want you to be a good girl and try to have fun, okay?” “Yes, Mommy,” I sighed. Gracie Mae stood quietly by in the doorway, greeting everyone who walked in the door. As we entered, I hid shyly behind my mother. “Hi! I’m Gracie Mae. What’s your name?” she said cheerfully. “Celia,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “Do you want to help me build a castle out of blocks?” she asked. I looked up at my mother, unsure of what to do. She nodded encouragingly. I then directed my gaze at Gracie Mae. She was smiling, her sapphire blue eyes twinkling, and her sheet of golden blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her smile was unlike any I had ever seen. It was quiet and warm, and yet it had a quality that I couldn’t quite place. “So, do you want to come?” she repeated calmly. At last, I nodded. My mother smiled at Grace Mae as if to thank her for her kindness. She kissed me goodbye and left me in Gracie Mae’s care. “Come on!” Gracie Mae said brightly. She took me gently by the arm and led me to a table at the back of the room. The table’s surface was covered in blocks. “Well, let’s get to work!” Gracie Mae said eagerly. We worked on the castle all morning, only stopping for snack time. Gracie Mae chatted merrily as we worked. I didn’t say much, but I was grateful that she did most of the talking. I think she knew this, but I can’t be sure. Whether she knew it or not, I appreciated it all the same. By the end of the day, I was optimistic about preschool and couldn’t wait to go back. As I said goodbye to my new friend, I had no idea of the mistake I would make, and the consequences she would suffer. * * * * * * * The next few weeks passed by as the first day had. Gracie Mae became my best friend. I felt comfortable talking to her, and with her help I gained the confidence to socialize with other children. I soon befriended three girls: Lisa, Libby, and Lana. Lisa was the leader of the group. She was petite with short, curly blond hair and a bright smile. She was extremely vain and always wanted to be the center of attention. The other two were titian-haired and freckly. They went along with whatever Lisa said; they had no backbone whatsoever. One morning, the four of us were sitting at a table talking. Gracie Mae was the special helper today because she had been so polite, so she was passing out crackers to everyone. “I don’t like that Gracie Mae” Lisa declared bluntly. “Me neither,” Lana and Libby said in unison. “Why?” I asked, even though I knew perfectly well why. Lisa was jealous because our teacher, Miss Murphie, had chosen Gracie Mae to be the special helper and not her. “I just don’t,” Lisa replied simply, biting into a cracker and glaring at Gracie Mae. I glanced uneasily at Lisa. The look on her face said it all: if I built the castle with Gracie Mae, I would be out of the group. The thought of it was more than I could bear. “No! Why would I want to build some dumb castle with you? I don’t want to be your friend anymore, so leave me alone!” I said coldly. The light left Gracie Mae’s eyes. She didn’t look hurt or angry; she merely looked as though the wind had been knocked out of her. My friends smirked in triumph. After an awkward pause, Gracie Mae smiled her quiet smile and said: “Oh, okay. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be over at the table.” Without another word, she walked away and sat down at a table by herself. “Good job, Celia!” Lisa said gleefully, patting me on the back. “Did you see her face?” Lana asked, laughing. “Yeah! What a geek!” Libby said. I nodded at them insincerely. I figured that after my friends were gone, I would go and tell Gracie Mae that I was sorry and didn’t mean what I had said. Lisa seemed to read my thoughts, because she gave me a stern look and said: “You realize you can’t be her friend anymore, don’t you?” “What?” I shrieked, horrified. “That’s right. You can’t talk to her unless you say something mean. Promise?” Lisa replied, looking expectantly at me. “Well, I-------” “Do you promise?” she asked persistently. I hesitated for a moment. Then, I sighed resignedly and said: “I promise.” * * * * * * * Five years passed. I was nine years old and in the third grade. My honey-blonde hair had reached my waist, and my nose was lightly sprinkled with freckles. I had remained friends with Lisa, Libby, and Lana since the day I had ditched Gracie Mae. I depended on them completely. Because I was associated with them, I shared in their immense popularity. I had kept my promise to Lisa all these years and didn’t regret it. Life was looking up for me. Gracie Mae, on the other hand, had been in social exile since the day I abandoned her. She had hardly changed. Her hair was still long and golden blonde, her eyes still sapphire blue, and her smile was as quiet and warm as ever. Despite her kind disposition, she didn’t have a friend in the world. She was always picked last for sports teams. Sometimes she wasn’t even picked at all. She was tripped, laughed at, and mocked. Yet no matter how rude people were to her, she remained her kind and friendly self. One Saturday in early fall, I sat on the window seat, staring out the bay window. The sun was warm as it streamed in through the glass. My fluffy Persian cat, Mr. Tibbit, was stretched out on my lap, enjoying a nice nap in the sunbeam. Suddenly, a little car and a moving van pulled up in front of the house across the street. “Oh, good, the new neighbors are here!” I thought. A man, woman, and girl exited the car. The girl looked to be about my age. As she turned around, I caught a glimpse of her face. I jumped from my seat and shrieked in horror. Mr. Tibbit was sent flying from my lap. He landed hard on the carpet and hissed reproachfully. “What’s going on, dear?” my mother asked as she entered the living room, looking concerned. “Are you okay? What are you looking at? Oh, the new neighbors are here! Let’s go say hello!” “Mom, I don’t want-----” I protested. Before I could say any more, she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out the door. The girl had already gone inside the house when my mother and I arrived across the street. I tried to hide as we approached the man and woman. “Hello. My name is Lorraine, and this is my daughter, Celia. We are your neighbors across the street. Welcome to the neighborhood!” my mother said cheerfully. The woman was about to introduce herself when the girl came out of the house. “What’s going on, Mommy?” she asked. “Oh, hi Celia.” “Hi, Gracie Mae,” I mumbled unenthusiastically. “Gracie Mae! Why, isn’t that your friend from school?” my mother asked. “She goes to my school, but she’s not my friend,” I said flatly. “Why, Celia! Don’t speak like that! It’s very rude!” my mother scolded. “Well, it’s true. She’s not my friend. I don’t like her,” I stated. “Celia! How dare you say such things!” my mother snapped. “I am so sorry,” she added apologetically to Gracie Mae and her parents. “Oh, it’s alright,” Gracie Mae said. “No, it isn’t! There is no excuse for her behavior! I shall see to it that she is punished for this!” “She doesn’t need to be punished! Really, I---” “Yes she does!” my mother persisted. “Now go to your room, Celia, and don’t come out until I say so!” she hissed at me. “But Mom----” “You heard me! Now get going!” * * * * * * * I was sprawled on my bed when my mother threw open the bedroom door. Her face was red, and her eyes flashed. I knew I was in more trouble than I had ever been in before. “Well, I hope you’re happy!” she yelled in a fit of rage. “Have you any idea how embarrassing that was? Why were you so rude to Gracie Mae?” “I don’t know,” I answered dully. “You don’t know? How could you not know? Well, never mind that. Now, if you just go over and apologize, I’ll consider not punishing you.” “No,” I said firmly. “Excuse me?” “I won’t apologize. I meant what I said, so I don’t think I should have to apologize.” “You know, you have developed quite an attitude, young lady! Just wait until your father hears about this! He will be so disappointed! Now you get over there and apologize right now!” I stormed out of the room without a word. I slammed the front door so hard that the house shook. The truth was, I was ashamed of what I’d said, but I didn’t want to apologize because I was afraid of what my friends would say if they found out. We never told Gracie Mae that we were sorry for something we said to her. How humiliating it would be if word got out that I had apologized to her! It was totally unethical. I would be shunned for sure. “Hi, Celia,” Gracie Mae said, smiling. How she could be so kind and cheerful after what I had said to her mystified me. “Hi, Gracie Mae,” I sighed. “So what’s up?” she asked. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, I whispered, “Listen, I’m sorry for what I said. It was really rude of me.” “It’s okay. I understand.” “Oh, well, I.....um.....thanks.” “I’m sorry too,” she said. “What? Why? You don’t....what do you have to be sorry for?” “I’m sorry that your mother is punishing you because of me,” she replied, hanging her head. “Don’t be sorry. I...I deserved it. I shouldn’t have said.....” A moment of silence followed. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble you know....I tried to help, but.....” she said. “I know,” I said. For about five minutes, we didn’t say a word. Finally, I said: “Well, I guess I’ll go.” “Okay,” Gracie Mae said. “See you around.” I turned to leave. When I returned to my house, I looked out the bay window. Gracie Mae stood alone out on the lawn, smiling quietly to herself. * * * * * * * My punishment was being grounded for a month. My mother called it “a loss of privileges,” but it really meant that I was grounded. When I returned to school on Monday, I was greeted by Lisa, Lana, and Libby. They looked at me disapprovingly. “So, what’s this I hear about you apologizing to Gracie Mae?” Lisa asked, looking livid. “What?” I asked, panicking. How could she know? “My mother was talking to your mother. She said you had to apologize to Gracie Mae because you’d said something rude to her. Is it true?” “Well, I......No, of course not! I.....she sent me to apologize, but I didn’t! I mean, I was supposed to, but I just told her that I hate her and she has a face like a horse!” I stammered. I prayed she wouldn’t see through my lie. “Really?” Lisa asked, surprised. “Yeah,” I replied. “Well, let’s see if it’s true.” Lisa turned around and walked over to Gracie Mae. Libby and Lana followed. I trudged nervously behind them. “What?” Gracie Mae looked at me, puzzled. I looked back at her, petrified. My heart pounded as she studied my face. I knew it was over. I braced myself as Gracie Mae seemed to reach a decision. Finally, she smiled quietly and said, “Yes, it’s true.” My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Neither could my friends. “Really?” Lisa asked. “Really,” Gracie Mae replied, giving me a meaningful look. I looked away, ashamed. “Well, what she said was right! You do have a face like a horse!” Lisa said coldly. Lana and Libby nodded. “If you say so,” Gracie Mae said, walking away. I couldn’t believe what she had done for me. How she could have sacrificed herself for me like that shocked me to the core. * * * * * * * On my way home from school, I spotted Gracie Mae. I hurried over to her. “Hi,” I said. “Hi,” she said, smiling. “Look, thanks for....for backing me up today.” “No problem.” “I didn’t mean what I said.” “It’s fine. I understand. You had to save face in front of your friends.” “Yeah, well........You understand don’t you? I mean, they are my best friends and all. They don’t think I should be nice to you, and I don’t want to lose them.” “It’s fine, really. I was glad to help.” “Well, I guess I’ll get going.” “Okay.” As I turned to leave, she asked: “Is that what you think?” I hesitated for a moment, and then said: “Yeah. Of course.” “Okay. See you around.” Without another word, she went into her house. * * * * * * * The next month passed quickly. Gracie Mae was still her kind and thoughtful self, but she didn’t seem quite as cheerful as she used to be. I thought that perhaps I was just imagining things. One rainy Friday afternoon after school, I was walking across the school yard with Lisa, Libby, and Lana. They were busy chatting about unimportant things when I spotted Gracie Mae on her way home. She was approached by Leon, one of the most popular boys in the third grade, and a group of his friends. “Hey, Gracie Mae,” he said in a falsely pleasant tone. “Hi,” she said, smiling brightly. “So, what are you doing?” he asked. “Going home,” she replied. “I see.....do you have anything important to do?” he inquired. “Yeah. I have a book report. It’s worth half of my grade. I’ve been working on it for weeks. I’m almost done.” “Can I see it?” he asked an evil glint in his eye. “Sure,” she said, handing him her report. “It’s really nice,” he said. “Thanks,” she said, beaming. “It’s a shame you’ll have to do it again,” he said, smirking. “Why would I have to do it again?” Without saying a word, he ripped the report in two. Then, he threw it in the mud and stomped on it. He and his friends roared with laughter. Gracie Mae looked down at her once beautiful report that now lay crumpled in a muddy heap. Lisa, Libby, and Lana joined in the laughter. After a few seconds, I succumbed to the mounting peer pressure and laughed too. We expected her to scream or to cry. We were all caught off guard when she smiled quietly and didn’t say a word. She simply walked away. * * * * * * * Weeks had passed since the incident in the school yard. Ms. Hamton, our teacher, had seen the whole thing and gave Leon detention for a week. She had also given Gracie Mae an extension on her book report. More acts of unkindness toward her had followed. Leon and his friends knocked her books out of her hands, pelted her with spitballs, and “accidentally” kicked her as she walked down the halls. I stood by and watched it all, not having the courage to say anything. So Gracie Mae was forced to suffer their cruelty all alone. I sensed that there was pain behind her quiet smile, but she never showed it. * * * * * * * “Celia!” Gracie Mae called, running towards me as I stood in my yard. “Hi,” I said with a sigh. I was depressed. I had had a miserable day. None of my friends had remembered that it was my birthday. “Not much.” A moment of silence followed. “Look, Gracie Mae, you realize we can’t be friends, right?” I blurted out. Her expression was remarkably calm, as though she had predicted this. “Yes, I do,” she replied. After an awkward silence, I asked: “So, was there something you wanted?” “Well, I know today is your birthday, so.........” she pulled from her pocket a necklace with a golden chain. Dangling from the chain was a tiny golden angel. She places it in my hand. “It’s my favorite necklace. It keeps me safe. I hope it will keep you safe too.” “Oh......thank you,” I say. Guilt such as I have never felt before rips at my insides. “You’re welcome,” she said, “Well, I’d better go. Good-bye.” “Bye. Thanks again for the present,” I say. When I enter my room, I put on the necklace. It was the greatest gift I had ever, or would ever, receive. * * * * * * * On Sunday, May 8th, I was walking down the street with Lisa, Libby, and Lana when we passed by Gracie Mae’s house. She was standing out on the front lawn, picking flowers. “Hi, everybody!” she said, beaming at us. “Oh, great,” Lisa groaned. “So, how are you?” Gracie Mae asked. “Look, Gracie Mae, we don’t like you, okay? We don’t want to talk to you. Why can’t you leave us alone?” Lisa snapped. After a tense moment, she asked: “Is that what you all want?” “Yes!” my three friends said, exasperated. “Even you, Celia?” Gracie Mae asked, looking me directly in the eye. I hesitated, and then said: “Of course. We’re not friends or anything. You know that.” “Are you sure?” She continued to look at me, as though trying to read my thoughts. “Absolutely. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I don’t like you,” I replied. She seemed to wilt like a dying flower. Instead of crying, she smiled her quiet smile and said: “If that’s what you want. Goodbye.” She turned around and walked into her house. “Well, that takes care of that!” Lisa said brightly. “So, what should we do now?” “Well, I have to go,” I said abruptly. “Why?” my friends asked. “I promised Mom I’d help her bake cookies. I don’t want her to ground me again.” “Okay,” Lisa said. “See you later.” When I entered my house, I looked out the bay window, thinking Gracie Mae might be in her yard. There was no Gracie Mae. Deciding I would explain things to her the next morning, I put her out of my mind for the rest of the day, having no idea of the events that were about to unfold. * * * * * * * I was awakened abruptly at 1:00 o’clock that morning by the sound of sirens outside. I jumped and hurried to the window. Gracie Mae’s house was surrounded by police cars and ambulances. My heart skipped a beat. As quickly as I could, I dressed and went down stairs. My parents were already down there. “What’s going on, Mommy?” I shrieked. “I don’t know. We were just about to go and find out,” my mother replied, looking worried. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” I demanded. My parents exchanged worried looks. “We don’t think you should see this, Celia,” my mother said quietly. “I want to go!” I said firmly. The entire neighborhood stood outside, watching the chaos. Police officers were running in and out of the house, conversing with each other. There were looks of horror on every face. Tears poured out of their eyes. Gracie Mae’s parents stood outside the house. Her mother was crying hysterically as her father was being led away in handcuffs by two police officers. “What’s going on?” I thought, feeling more worried than I had ever been. The answer came five minutes later. Two paramedics exited the house, carrying a body bag on a stretcher. I knew at once who it was, but the thought was too horrible to be true. Suddenly, an officer approached the crowd and asked: “Is there anyone here named Celia?” I raised my hand. The officer handed me an envelope. “This letter was addressed to you. We will use it as evidence, but we thought you had the right to read it,” he said. I carefully opened the envelope, my hands shaking and my heart pounding. It said: Dear Celia, By the time you read this, I’ll be dead, but I just wanted to tell you something: My daddy beats me. He’s an alcoholic, you see. He has been hitting me every night for seven years, ever since he lost his job. Mommy knows about it, but she doesn’t try to help me. I think he’s going to kill me tonight. I got away just long enough to write you this letter. I’m not going to try to run, because I know that I can’t escape. I want you to know that you’re my best friend in the world, and that you have made my life worth living. I’ll miss you. Daddy’s calling, so I’d better go. I hope I’ll see you again someday. -Gracie Mae * * * * * * * By the next day, the story had gotten out: In a drunken rage, Gracie Mae’s father had beaten his nine-year-old daughter to death with a baseball bat. It had been Ms. Bisbee who had heard the screams and sprinted over to the house to check to see if everything was alright. By the time she had arrived, it was too late. At school the next morning, our principal announced that Gracie Mae was dead. Most people became violently ill. Several had to rush to the bathroom to throw up. Everywhere I looked, people were in tears. Ms. Hamton tried to comfort us, while she herself was crying hysterically. “Well, isn’t this an absolute tragedy,” Lisa said insincerely, watching the grief stricken students rushing about. “What do you mean?” I asked, surprised. “Well, she’s dead. Who cares? I never liked her,” she replied coldly. I was so stunned by her insensitivity that I could only gape at her. “What? It’s true!” Lisa said. Libby and Lana nodded. Anger such as I had never felt before boiled inside of me. Shaking with fury, I said: “How could you be so cruel? What did she ever do to you? She was always nice to you, but were you nice to her? No! She’s dead! Don’t you understand? This whole time she was being hurt and we were being mean to her and now you can’t even pretend that you’re sorry about all that you did to her?” “Lighten up, will you! Why are you defending her anyway? She’s dead! You don’t even like her! She’s not your friend, especially now! We are your real friends!” she yelled. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. I don’t like you.” “Celia, don’t you dare talk to me this way! Don’t you----“ “I’m tired of listening to what you have to say! I can make up my own mind about what I want! I should have said it years ago! Maybe I couldn’t save Gracie Mae from you, but I think that she would at least have wanted me to save myself!” “Alright, we’re not friends anymore!” “Good! Now get out of my sight!” The three turned on their heel and huffily walked away. As I watched them go, I felt not remorse, but savage pride. At last, I was free. In death, Gracie Mae had saved me. * * * * * * * Gracie Mae’s father was charged with first degree murder. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole. I hate Gracie Mae’s parents more than I can say. How could that man harm such a kind and loving child? How could Gracie Mae’s own mother allow her husband abuse her daughter for seven years and not ever try to help her? They seemed like such normal people, the kind you would never think capable of this. Every time I see their faces on television or in the newspaper, I have to leave the room, for I cannot even stand the sight of these vile people. * * * * * * * The funeral was that Saturday. The whole town had gathered to pay their respects to Gracie Mae. Thousands of roses were placed on her grave. At last, she was receiving the attention she deserved. The one moment that will remain in my mind was when Leon arrived. The fact that he came at all had shocked me, since he never seemed to like Gracie Mae. How could he show his face at her funeral after what he had done to her? I was completely taken aback when he placed a rose on the grave. Then, he sank to his knees and cried. I could almost feel Gracie Mae smiling down on him, forgiving him for his cruelty. I knew from then on he was different, that his days of bullying were in the past. Libby and Lana turned up. They told me that thanks to me, they had decided that Lisa wasn’t someone they wanted to be around either and asked if I would forgive them. I wondered what Gracie Mae would do. I knew that she would forgive them, so I did. From that day on, the three of us were best friends. For weeks I had tried to keep my composure and not cry. But as I stood before Gracie Mae’s grave, the dam broke. I lost all sense of self as I began to cry. I was consumed by grief. Leon put his arm around my shoulder, and together we wept, sharing our lament for the one we had lost. * * * * * * * Today, I stand in this cemetery. In the wake of these memories, I am left with feelings of sadness and remorse. And yet, amidst the agonizing pangs of what I have lost, I hold onto the lessons that she taught me. I try to reflect not on the day that she died, but the life that she lived and the legacy that she left behind. Through the tears, a smile crosses my face as I think of Leon crying at her funeral, and how he went on to become a kind and gentle person. I think of Lana and Libby, who found the strength to walk away from Lisa after so long. As think of how the three of them went on to become avid leaders in the fight against child abuse, my sadness begins to subside. Gracie Mae taught me more than anyone else. She completely altered my life. Her kindness and strength throughout her entire ordeal inspires me everyday. The way she was able to calmly face her horrible death with such bravery has been a constant lesson to me. Every time that I want to say something rude, I think of Gracie Mae and choose to just smile and let it go. I realize now that the little problems I have are nothing compared to Gracie Mae’s, and that if she could face everyday with a smile, so can I. My daily tribute to her is to live my life with compassion and optimism, just as she did. I gently place the rose on the gravestone, where so many have lain before. As I stand here, I finally realize that Gracie Mae’s smile was a knowing smile. Every time she quietly smiled, it was because she understood something about us that we didn’t know at the time. The reason that she was able to shrug off our unkind words was because she knew that one day we would regret what we had done. She knew how we all really felt, so she never took our words to heart. As I come to this realization, I pull from my pocket a golden necklace. I lightly stroke the tiny golden angel dangling from its chain. I have carried this necklace with me for fifteen years, ever since the day that Gracie Mae gave it to me. It remains the greatest gift that has ever been given to me, not because it is particularly expensive or fancy, but because of the love that came along with it. The fact that Gracie Mae would give up something that she truly loved to possibly bring me good luck has moved me more than anything else. Her simple act of kindness reminds me every day to try to be a better person. I know that as I stand here that Gracie Mae is smiling that quiet, knowing smile, telling me that she is proud of the person I have become. I smile, holding the necklace to my heart. I have an angel. Her name is Gracie Mae.
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