There were angels everywhere, gracing mantels and side tables, each figure unique with hand-painted paper-mache faces, individualized coiffures from fine yarns, and a gown fashioned from a delicate antique handkerchief. They came in all sizes from four or five inches to a foot or more, ingeniously made to stand by being propped up on cardboard tubes from paper rolls. Their lace wings were stiffened carefully by starch and one almost expected them to join in Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus!
The real angel in the house was, of course, Dolly, hosting yet again the spectacular open-house holiday festivity to a crowd that filled the Stades’ apartment with laughter and good cheer. Dolly, who over many years made each angel, filled the tables with dozens and dozens of beautifully decorated home-baked cookies (many frozen weeks before in order to accommodate the many guests). Dolly, always elegantly attired, could easily be mistaken for a guest of honor until one noted how she commanded the kitchen as platter after platter of scrumptious foods that she’d prepared were ferried out to the main table by handsome George who also performed the duties of maître d’ and bar tender What a team!
In 1978, I was a late-comer to the circle of friends within Columbia College’s English Department, and Dolly was the first to make me feel a bonified member of the group. There’s been many a time when I’ve mentally uttered “Thanks Doll.” My husband, Ted, and I loved Dolly and treasured her for her wit, her mental agility, and the warmth of her loving nature.
