One day, Hazel was in the office laughing and then the next day, she was gone. When she had died so suddenly, it was such a shock. For weeks afterward, everybody at the office half expected her to come bursting in the door with her daily joke, to make them laugh, cheer them up, flatter them, to make them all feel so smart. Everybody tried to continue on as usual, but as time went by, they all came to the slow, painful realization that she would not be coming back, and life at the office was suddenly dull, the work hard, the days long. There wasn’t a day that passed that someone didn’t start a sentence with “Remember when Hazel said this or when Hazel did that?” or ask how Hazel would have handled a problem. She had been the motor that had kept them all running happily for so many years. Without her, their incentive to work hard and the pride of being a part of Team Hazel was gone. They all missed her terribly. But for Maggie, losing Hazel had kicked the very foundation right out from under her. The year Maggie lost her parents, Hazel had quietly stepped in, and without her even realizing it, Hazel had become her rock, her mentor, her own personal cheerleader. And in a world increasingly lacking in role models, she had been the one person Maggie had admired and looked up to. But then, everyone who had ever known Hazel had looked up to her. Ironic, considering that Hazel Whisenknott had only been three feet, four inches tall.
Hazel Whisenknott Begins
“THIS IS THE TINIEST BABY I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!” IS A PHRASE most people have heard a few times, but in Hazel Whisenknott’s case, it was true. When she was born, her father had been able to hold her in the palm of his hand, but even so, both parents had been shocked when the doctor informed them that their little girl was never going to grow much bigger than three feet. It wasn’t until the second grade that Hazel herself began to notice something odd. She was not getting any taller while everyone else in her class was. When she asked her parents about it, they were ready with answers, and if she ever resented it or felt sorry for herself, they didn’t know it. Somehow, her mother had said the exact perfect word at the exact right time. Hazel was told that she was to be different than most, but “special,” and Hazel had liked that word. She would settle for that and make the best of it. What her parents didn’t know was that inside that small body beat the heart of a natural born businesswoman, and she could hardly wait to get started.
Just five short years later, Mrs. Mae Flower was at the sink rinsing out her deviled egg plate when she heard a knock on the front door. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and wondered who could be visiting her this time of day, but when she opened her door to find out, no one was there. She was about to close it again when she heard a voice from below saying, “Good afternoon, ma’am.” She looked down to where the voice was coming from, and there stood the smallest person she had ever seen in her entire life, wearing a pair of tiny little overalls and a pink barrette in her hair.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the small person repeated. “I hope you are having a pleasant afternoon.”
Mrs. Flower was so completely surprised to see the tiny talking person that she clapped her hands in delight.
“Oh, if you are not just the cutest little thing… I could just pick you up and squeeze you to death, and just look at those little teeny feet and hands. Why, you are just a walking, talking little doll.”
The little doll flashed a beautiful smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Mrs. Flower threw the door open and said, “Well, come on in, precious, and let me get you some pie or something. Oh, I wish my husband were at home to see you. He’s never going to believe me. Are you here with the circus?”
“Oh no, ma’am,” said the little person. “I live here in Woodlawn, over on Thirteenth Street South, about five blocks from here.” She pointed to the car parked at the curb. “My mother drove me over.”
Mrs. Flower looked out and saw a full-sized lady sitting in a green Chevy smile and wave at her.
Mrs. Flower waved back and led the little person into the living room and indicated for her to sit. “What can I do for you, darling? Are you collecting money for anything?”
“Oh no, ma’am, I was just wondering if you had any weeds you wanted pulled today.”
“Weeds?”
“Yes, ma’am, when we drove by, I noticed you have quite a few weeds that need pulling.” The little person walked over to the living room windowsill, which came up to her nose, stood up on her toes, and sized up the lawn. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll pull the front yard and your side yard for a dollar.”
“You mean… pull up the weeds?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? That’s mighty dirty work for a pretty little thing like you.”
“Oh, I don’t mind the work. I like it.”
Mrs. Flower crossed her hands over heart and said, “Oh, honey, I don’t want you to have to do that. Why don’t I just give you a dollar? It was worth it just to get to see you at my door. You’ve just cheered me up so.”
The little person frowned. “Oh no, ma’am, I couldn’t take any money if I didn’t earn it.”
Mrs. Flower could tell the girl meant it, and she hated to have her leave empty-handed, so she sighed. “Well, honey, if you want to pull some weeds, go ahead, I guess.”
A few minutes later, when Mrs. Flower was busy cutting a piece of pie and preparing a tall glass of iced tea for her tiny unexpected visitor, her next-door neighbor, Pearl Jeff, the judge’s wife, came to the side screen door, still dressed and wearing her strand of good pearls from attending an earlier bridge club luncheon.
She said sharply, “Mae, do you know there’s a midget sitting in your yard?”
“Yes, I do. Come on in,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron.
The judge’s wife stomped in, looking very concerned. “Why is there a midget sitting on your front lawn?”
“Well, Pearl, she just showed up, knocked on my door, and said she was looking for work pulling weeds. I told her I would just give her the money, she didn’t need to pull my weeds, but she said no, that she wanted to pull my weeds, so what could I do? So, I said, ‘Well, if you want to, go ahead.’ So, she’s going ahead, I guess. I don’t know what to think, but she’s as cute as a button.”
The judge’s wife pulled back the curtains and observed the small person. “Well, my word, have you ever? How old is she?”
“I couldn’t say, she could be anywhere from six to sixty. I don’t know, how can you tell how old a midget is? I wouldn’t even know what to look for.”
Still peering out the window, the judge’s wife said again, “Well, my word, you just don’t know what to expect from day to day, do you?”