Allegory

May 1, 2018

Period 1

The Lesson of an Angel

"Now, now, class, settle down. I understand that Migens are strange creatures but we must help them nonetheless," the angelic teacher instructed her wiggling winged students.

"But why do we need to help them?" a boy on the left side of the room called, raising his hand. "It's not our fault they're like that."

"Our purpose here is to make sure other things are peaceful and happy. The Demons do the opposite, which is annoying, but makes our turns on Migens' lives more effective. The Migens just need some influence and assistance. In other words, they are pawns that we care for."

Myra frowned. She thought that they should treat the Migens as equals. They were living creatures with minds of their own just like the Angels and Demons, after all. Myra understood that it was the Angels' purpose to guide them toward happiness, but that didn't give them the right to act in such haughty ways. Then they'd be no better than Demons.

The teacher picked up a wand of light whose beam swished with every movement. She held it to the board and swept it in the graceful strokes that formed words, the light softly burning into it.

First Principle: help anyone and everyone.

"The most important part of our job is that we make sure every Migen can acquire happiness. That means that we should always keep a watchful eye to find anyone who may need a little light in their day," the teacher explained. "You could even begin to practice now with your fellow Angels, though such opportunities may be slim, as we are what some may call 'near perfect,' but a better way to say it is that we are always cheery."

Myra couldn't believe what she was hearing, what she was seeing. The teacher claimed that everyone in this room was metaphorically and literally an angel. And the students just sat with wide, glittering eyes, nodding and smiling.

But Myra wasn't like that. She was upset often and had many flaws. On top of that, they were being taught to help every single being they came across. She had passed many figures, but none had stooped to give her a lift. The child kept hoping it was because she was young, and when she was older that someone would come along and help her out. Myra just kept waiting for that day.

She looked around the classroom. The lighting was soft; the ceiling nearly domed. Cabinets were posted like trees to a counter across from where she sat by the window. The desks were few in numbers and aligned to face the teacher in something like a semicircle.

The teacher stood behind her desk and offered a question. "Now then, how can you help anyone that you see?"

A girl with wispy blonde hair quickly raised her hand and grinned sweetly. "We can smile at them!"

Another golden child whipped their hand into the air. "We can wave to them."

"We can say hi and ask them how they're doing," a boy exclaimed.

"We can give them hugs!" a girl squeezed herself and the kids around her as she said it.

I don't like any of those . . . Myra thought. What was going through their heads?

"Very good, very good!" the teacher clasped her hands together knowing she'd have a bright class this year. Myra, as young as she was, couldn't decide if she fit into that category. At least, by regular standards.

"Wonderful ideas, class," the teacher continued with her praise. "So, when I say everyone, I mean everyone, right?"

The children nodded.

"Good," the teacher turned and began writing on the board. Myra frowned again, knowing there was something wrong about what the teacher was saying. But no one stood up and asked for more information. Never in all her years that she'd seen so far, and the many to come.

*****

Myra carefully aligned her pieces into straight rows. She'd already sanitized them, so they were safe to touch. Not to mention that things always felt so nice when they were clean.

She jumped as a hand slammed down on her board, sending the pawns flying a tiny bit into the air, just enough to ruin all her work.

"Miss Victoria!" her instructor said loudly. Myra flinched backwards. "Migen lives are random things and they're not going to get organized by actually organizing them."

Myra opened her mouth to say something, but he was already stalking away. She glared and put the pieces back into place. She wasn't sure how she felt about each one being different. Myra knew that they were made to be like Migens, all diverse, and she was fine with living beings that were like that, but it irritated her when they were something on a gameboard.

A kid ran by, coughing as he passed her. Her blue eyes twitched, wondering if he decided to release the germs of illness that he possessed by her specifically. Couldn't he cough on someone who didn't care? A better question, why couldn't people just stay sanitary to avoid sickness all together? She'd never understand anyone. She watched him as he went to his board. How could he dare to be late to such an important class of such a prestigious academy?

"All right, you'd better be ready to go, because we've got work to do," the instructor said. "Today we're going to talk about an elementary topic that happens to be very important." He scrawled on the board and pointed to it to make sure the semicircle of a class knew what he meant. "Priority targets. Can anyone tell me what that is?"

A student near Myra raised their hand. "It's deciding who needs help the most when you don't have time for everyone."

"Yes, now pick up pawns 1, 2, and 3," the instructor ordered.

Myra gently lifted the pieces from her board, careful not to disturb the rest.

"Pawn 1 is a teenager with parental issues, pawn 2 is someone who's been having a rough day, and pawn 3 is a child with a physical disorder. All are struggling for happiness, but who really needs a hand?"

The class was silent for a moment, looking and pondering at their pawns. Myra thought for a second, then put the third pawn on the front of her board in the "Helping" square. She glanced around the classroom, looking at the other kids' decisions. There were only three other people that had chosen the same piece as Myra.

The instructor slowly paced the semicircle, his brow furrowed at each one. He walked away with rigid posture, his tidey wingtips brushing the ground.

"There is no right answer, technically. It all depends on what you as an individual think. The one that you choose, however, can tell a person much about what's going on in your mind and your capability. Those who chose 1 likely are worried that the teen is alone and going into darkness, ones who chose pawn 2 sympathize with the Migen because unlucky days are no fun, plus, you're lazy and close-minded." The students that chose that pawn flinched. The instructor turned a burning gaze toward Myra. "And those who chose the third pawn understand that to be truly different can hurt more than anything else, and that no matter who you are, you deserve the same positive treatment as anyone else."