Three-year-old Katherine was demoted from an angel to a star in her preschool Christmas pageant. It called to mind the pangs of devastation I felt in the fifth grade when I lost out to Marci Simons for the part of Mary. Maybe I needed some re-wiring in my brain back then, or maybe I was psychic, because Marci went on to steal my boyfriend five years later.

“A star is better than a walnut,” said the barista at my favorite coffee joint. She was also demoted from an angel (to a walnut because her third-grade teacher decided the class was going to represent a cornucopia instead of the nativity scene–Mary and Joseph were so “last year.”)

Honestly, I was a little bummed out for Katherine, because I still remember my lines as the Angel Gabriel: “Be not afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you.” I recite those lines a lot as a person with a fragile brain chemistry. I say them especially on the dark days when I am afraid.

And I call on my angels. All of them. Even the ones that got demoted.