A child asks about his angel—a glimpse of what a school can mean for a person’s life.
A moving story was shared recently at a meeting of educators from Rede Social,1 the social network that encompasses nearly 40 public schools2 in Brazil. These schools operate according to Rudolf Steiner’s pedagogic principles and maintain close dialogue with state authorities. They are accessible to all children and are attended by many whose families live in poverty, often in situations where their very existence is threatened or, at the very least, in extremely difficult financial and environmental circumstances.
An experienced kindergarten teacher visits a Rede Social kindergarten. A little boy lets her rock him in her arms—like in a tiny boat—and she sings. The child grows still, looks at her, and says quite unexpectedly, “My guardian angel doesn’t know my address.” Deeply moved, she gets up, steps outside for a moment, and breaks down in tears. She is aware of the immense challenges this child faces at home. Back inside, she takes the child into her arms once more. The child looks at her and continues, “But my guardian angel knows the address of this school.”3
There must be schools—places that focus on the child, places where there is food, places where protection, security, hugs, joy, and care assure the child that they are welcome on this earth. Places that the angel knows. But where is the angel for the child when they are not at school?
Perhaps learning to pray and to turn to a presence felt in the heart is also—maybe especially—a central lesson today. For this child, the question “Do I have to believe in angels?” may not be relevant; the question is, rather, “Am I allowed to believe that the angel will find me?” In a secular and, in some cases, atheistic society, it seems strange to think that it is of existential importance to a child that their angel can find them. How fortunate that this teacher, Vanda Elisa Raulino, was able to embrace the child and their relationship with their angel. What if she had said, “The angel won’t find you here or anywhere else, because there is no such thing as an angel!”?
“Where there are schools, there is hope,” wrote Brazilian photographer Sebastião Salgado in the foreword to his book featuring photographs of children in war zones.4 He visited these areas as a photographer, and every time, children ran up to him and asked him to take their picture. Faces full of wonder, seriousness, sadness, and even laughter—faces that had seen the worst yet remained full of hope. What he wrote was echoed by this kindergarten child—simply and in a different way. The angel knows where he is: his school—a “sacred place.”5
Translation Laura Liska
Drawing by Elena Klee, age 7
Footnotes
- This meeting preceded the Brazilian pedagogical conference, which took place in Florianópolis in July 2026. It was attended by more than 650 teachers.
- In Brazil, kindergarten is part of the school system. In this text, the terms “kindergarten” and “school” are used interchangeably, as kindergarten children refer to their kindergarten as a school.
- Vanda Elisa Raulino also reports on this encounter in her article in the book commemorating the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Waldorf kindergarten in Germany, which also marks the 70th anniversary of the founding of the first Waldorf kindergarten in Brazil. See Ana Paola Zeminian, Gabriela Moraes, Paula Levy, Paula Toschi Dassie, Regina Giachetta, Rosemeire Laviano, Talita Melone, Telma Benedicto, Vanda Elisa de Farias Raulino, Cuidar, cultivar, florescer. 100 Anos de Jardim de Infância Waldorf [Nurture, cultivate, thrive. 100 Years of Waldorf Kindergarten]. FeWb, São Paulo 2026, p. 146.
- Sebastião Salgado, Retratos de crianças do êxodo [Portraits of Children of the Exodus]. Companhia das Letras, São Paulo 2000.
- See Rudolf Steiner’s foundation stone inscription for the first Waldorf school in: Rudolf Steiner in the Waldorf School: Lectures and Addresses to Children, Parents, and Teachers, GA 298, Lecture of December 26, 1921, Stuttgart.
