My teeth screamed. I couldn't neglect them any longer. I  
     finally ignored my fear of dentists and decided to get them  
     fixed. But how? I was a college sophomore and barely supported  
     myself with part-time jobs.   
          Maybe I could fix the worst one. I flipped open the Yellow  
     Pages and called the first dentist within walking distance. The  
     receptionist told me to come right over. As I hurried across the  
     campus. I forgot the pain in worrying about how I would pay the  
     bill. 
          In a few minutes I was in a chair being examined by a  
     dentist who said, "Hmm!" as he surveyed the wreckage of my mouth.  
     "Your teeth are in bad shape." 
          "I already know that," I snapped, in a smart-aleck way to  
     hide my fear. 
          "But don't worry, I'm going to fix them." 
          "No, you're not. I can't afford to pay you." I started  
     climbing out of the chair. 
          "What are you doing?" 
          "I told you, I have no money." 
          "You're a student at the university, aren't you?" 
          What difference did that make? "Yes..." 
          "You're going to graduate in a few years, aren't you?" 
          "I hope so." 
          "And then you expect to get a job, don't you?" 
          "That's my plan." 
          "Well, then you'll pay me. Meantime, you concentrate on your  
     classes and leave the dentistry to me." 
          I stared at him. He really meant it. He calmly picked up his  
     tools and fixed the aching cavity. 
          From that day on, I saw him every week until my teeth were  
     in good shape. And he kept them that way with regular checkups.  
     After graduation, I got a job and settled his bill in a few  
     months. 
          In the 40 years following, I've learned to call this man a  
     "woodwork angel." These are strangers who appear out of nowhere -  
     out of the woodwork - when I need help. They've lent and given me  
     money, materials or equipment; they've taught me skills and  
     helped me organize groups; sometimes they've rescued me from  
     danger or making a big mistake. So, dentist dear, wherever you  
     are, bless you and thank you again! 
      
                              By Varda One 
               from A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul  
     Copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch  
     McCarty & Meladee McCarty