 Family Theatre presents Wendell Corey and Betty Lynn. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network in cooperation with Family Theatre presents Della starring Wendell Corey. Now to introduce the drama, here is your hostess, Betty Lynn. Thank you, Larry Chatterton. Family Theatre's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we are to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theatre urges you to pray, pray together as a family. And now to our drama, Della, starring Wendell Corey as a narrator. When people describe Manhattan as the most fabulous city in the world they are usually referring to its towering buildings, its innumerable shops, the glamour of its theatres. Well, that's all very true. But there are other things that make it just as fabulous. And those are the strange things that happen now and then to people who live here. Our story tonight is about one of those people, a man. The strange thing that happened to him had changed his whole life. A man, just an ordinary looking man, much like hundreds you pass on the street every day speaks. Every scene of the bums who sleep in the flop houses down in the bar, ragged clothes stained and streaked with gutter mud and dirty city filth, half inch whiskers, matted hair, blurry eyes. Well, a few years ago I was a bowery bum and I hated everybody, those who gave me money even more than those who didn't. I knew what they were thinking. I've never seen a more disgusting sight. I blamed them for my condition. Maybe I was waiting for them to make a respectable citizen out of me. That's what I wanted to tell you about. About what did happen to give me a new start? It was a girl. A girl named Della. Who was she and where did she come from? Why did she come to me? Where did she go when she left me? And how in the space of five years could she grow from a girl of six or seven to a woman of 21? That's what I said. In five years, Della grew as much as a normal child grows in 15 years. Sometimes I feel as if I must have dreamed at all. Yet I heard her voice and I touched her hand and once she kissed me, it doesn't seem possible. I tell myself it couldn't have happened, but I know it did. A few years ago I was standing with another bum, wondering how we were going to get enough money together and get something to drink. How much you got? Nothing at all. I got two bits. That means we need another nickel for a bottle of alkali. I sure need a drink. There he comes, a guy. You don't have no chance with him. You can't sell. Can you spare a few pennies, buddy? Sorry. What did I tell you? Don't do you no good to try them kind of guys. Now take a look at this dame coming along. Here's something different. The woman he meant was about 40 years old. Trim and neat, looking like the kind that might have a nickel. Right age, too. The old women and the young women are usually too afraid to go to a bond to stop and give them anything. This woman was walking to her, so I asked her for a nickel. She glanced at me, and I saw the look of contempt. She stopped, opened her pocketbook, and took out a nickel. Here you are. Say that you spend it for coffee. And she hurried away. I was mad inside her contempt the way she held me off as if I was a stench in her nostrils, filled me with a blind rage. I started after her. I'd have killed that woman. I felt someone tugged my coat. I turned and saw Della for the first time. Please, mister, I'm hungry. She was a pathetic-looking kid, small and sickly with pale, thin cheeks and deep, serious eyes. Although she held my coat firmly in her little hand, I could see a trace of fear in her face. I'm hungry, mister. Now what would have mattered to me if the brat was hungry? The whole world was against me, and I was against the whole world. I raised my hand to give her a shove, but something seemed to hold my hand back. A feeling I hadn't known in a long time came over me. A feeling of pity for this forlorn-looking kid who held on to my coat and said, Please, mister, I'm hungry. I looked at the nickel in my hand. That nickel, plus the other bum's two bits, equaled the pint of alcohol, the alcohol I wanted so badly. Why didn't I push the kid aside and forget about her? But I didn't. Please, mister. I hear your kid is a nickel. Not much, but you can buy something with it. Now, here's the funny part. That kid sort of did something to me. I saw her several times in the next couple of months, saw her from a distance, and I could see she was looking a little bit better and even seemed to be a little bit taller. Each time she saw me, she smiled and waved at me. Hello, mister. That's what made me feel good. To know there was one person in the world who didn't think I was just a bum who even smiled at me. I realized she was only a kid and didn't know any better, but I felt good anyway. I began to stop in at a mission down there in the Bowery where I could wash and shave and try to clean up the dirty clothes I wore. One day, I even went into a meeting at the mission. There's a good many of us there, mostly bums, maybe listening, maybe sleeping. Mr. Elliott, the head of the mission, was talking to us and telling us the usual stuff. But he had something else to say. Now, there are some people who claim that the only way to receive God's blessing is to come right out in the open and ask for it. But there's another way. The way you try to live your life. If you try to earn the respect of good men, you will surely earn the blessing of God. And the first thing you can do to earn that respect and that blessing is to get a job of some sort. Jobs may be scarce, but there are jobs and maybe I can help you find one. Mr. Elliott went on to urge us to stay after the service and talk with him about getting work. Well, after the meeting was over, I waited around. What are you waiting for? You ain't gonna talk to him about a job, are you? Maybe I will. Ah, what's to use? The jobs he'll offer you won't be no good. But I waited anyway. When I got the chance, I went into Elliott's office. I hope you came in to talk about getting a job. Yeah. That's fine. I'm glad to hear it. You know any kind of a trade? No, I guess I don't. Well, do you think you're in condition to do laboring work? Well, maybe I could handle it. I'll write down this address for you. Mr. Wheeler, 428 Martin Street. There you are. You go see Mr. Wheeler. What kind of work is it? It's in a warehouse. Heaving bales and patent cases and things like that. How much it pay? Not much, I'm sorry to say. It works 6 days a week. 10 hours a day for about $15. What? 15 bucks for working 60 hours? What kind of a guy is this, Wheeler? What kind of a country is this? You're down, you try to start up again, you get kicked in the face. I wish I could offer you something better, but that's the best I can do. That's what I think of Wheeler in his rotten job. You'd better think it over. Oh man, Wheeler ain't going to make a slave out of me. What? It's you again, but you're so much bigger. Well, I did grow a lot and I'm a lot healthier too. Now that you've... Would you like to go for a walk with me? Sure. Sure, I'd like to. Well, let's go over toward the park. Sure, wherever you want to go. How old do you think I am? Oh, I can't tell. Eight maybe? No, ten. I'm ten years old. But when I first met you only a year ago, I thought you were about six. I was. I was exactly six. I'd been six years old for... Or for a long time. Now you're ten years old. Yes. You see, I don't grow like other girls. Sometimes I grow slowly and... And other times I grow awful fast. I even grow backwards. And I don't like that at all. What did she mean? She didn't grow like other girls. How could she be ten now when... Well, a year ago she was only six. She was as big as a ten-year-old girl. As I walked along, I tried to find out what she meant, but I couldn't. Harvest, you did tell me her name. My name's Della. Della? That's a pretty name. Della what? Huh? Oh, everybody's got a last name, Della. It's the same as your mother and father's. I don't have any mother or father. You don't? Oh. Where do you live then? Over there. She waved her hand vaguely in the general direction of the east side. I was afraid to ask her too much because I thought she might get angry and stop walking with me. Then she took hold of my hand and stopped me. When are you going to get a job? A job? Well, you don't have a job, do you? No, I... I don't. And you still beg? Well, I... And you still beg, don't you? Well, I heard about a job today. Well, not much of a job. It's in a warehouse and it's hard work, but I can do it all right. I'm going there tomorrow to ask about it. Oh, that's fine. Well, that's wonderful. Oh, you make me so happy. I meant it. Right then I told myself I'd be at that warehouse bright and early the next morning. And I would have, too, if it hadn't been for that cop in the park. Oh, I guess it wasn't his fault the way he acted. I know he didn't know he heard it. You see, we'd have been in the park only a few minutes when this cop came over to me. All right, Bob, I'm on your way out of the park. We got as much right to walk in a park as anybody else. No, I'd made baited. By that time, the cop was right beside me. He lifted his hand to give me a push. As he did, his hand hit Della. Go on, baited. Watch it, you big lad. Can't you see you hit the little girl? Little girl? What's the matter, you drunk? Go on, get out of the park. I made a motion to grab my arm and he hit Della again. I told you, let the kid along you. Crazy bum, hit a cop, will you? I'll show you what it means to hit a cop. I spent the next 30 days in jail. When I got out, I went back to the cheap liquor and got along with begging and petty thievery. I didn't see Della for quite a while. More than a year, I guess. When I did, she... She looked pretty sick. She didn't look well at all. Sure, sure. I remember you, Della. You don't look so well. I've been sick. Awful sick. Ever since I saw you the last time we went for a walk. I'm sorry to hear that, Della. I never took that job. I know. You know? How do you know I didn't take it? Never mind how I know. I know when that's enough. I know you didn't take that job. Before I could say anything, she ran off down the street. How did she know I didn't go after that job? Couldn't figure it out, but many things about Della I couldn't understand. All I knew was this. If it made so much difference to her whether or not I had a job, I'd get a job. And I'll get me wrong. She's the only one that mattered to me. So I... I went to see Wheeler. Yes, I got a job for you. Seven in the morning till six at night, six days a week. 15 bucks. Hard work and you work every minute. You still want it? I want the job, Mr. Wheeler. Most of the bums, I mean most of the men who come in here back down when I tell them it's 60 hours for $15. I said I wanted the job. How do you know you can handle it? You can fire me if I can't. Okay. Start tomorrow morning. Wheeler didn't lie when he said it was hard work. For a while I couldn't sleep at night. I didn't make so much, but I got used to it. After a few weeks I was able to buy myself a cheap suit, new shirt and a pair of shoes. You see, I wanted to look decent in case I should meet Teller again. And sure enough, before long I did see her. Zoot, how nice you look. Do you really like it? Yes, I do. And you look so changed too. You look a lot better yourself. I'm completely better. I guess work agrees with you and me. You don't mean you have to work? Well, how can you... Well, no, I mean you're working. I wasn't going to try to make out what she meant. There was a mystery about her, all right? The way I, well, I wouldn't see her for a while, then she'd pop right up in my pants. But I decided in case I did meet her that whatever she said to me, I wouldn't question her about it. I even grow backwards. Or about where she lived. Over there. Or her last name. I don't have any last name. By the end of the next couple of years, she'd reached the age of 20. Sounds incredible, I know. But I saw it with my own eyes. Once I told her she kept getting older, this rate she'd be as old as I was before she knew it. Oh, I never get any older than 21. But you're 20 now. You'll be 21 in no time. I'm afraid I'm going to be 20 for a long while. You are? Yes. And I don't know how long. I know is I won't be 21 until something special happens. What did she mean she wouldn't be 21 until something special happened? Sounds odd, doesn't it? She told me her growth depended on something outside of her. And as that something developed, she grew. How I fitted into the picture I didn't know. And as I said before, I didn't want to question her too much. I kept on working for Wheeler just because of Della. Wheeler knew I'd been a bum and most of the time he'd treated me like one. Oh, I hated him with all the hate and resentment I felt for the world that still kept me on its edges. Some days I wished a boxer or a bear would fall on his head and grind him into the floor. That's the way I felt about Wheeler until, well, until one day something like that almost did happen. It was just before six and I was at the back of the warehouse getting things cleaned up for the day when I heard a noise. The crackling noise like the fire up at the front of the warehouse where Mr. Wheeler's office was. I wanted to see what it was. The fire, all right, was spreading pretty fast. I tried to get to the office on the telephone, but the heat was too much for me. I ran out the side door and pulled the fire alarm box at the corner. When I got back, the flames were shooting up and the crowd was collecting in the street in front of the building. There's somebody in there. Look there by the window. I moved over to where I could get a good look through the office window. Yeah, I hated Wheeler. I didn't like to see him die like this. A man got my way and I pushed him aside. Through the smoke, I could see someone in the office. It looked like Wheeler and yet somehow it... it looked like Della, too. Della, I tried to break through the crowd to get to the door, but they held me back. I yanked myself free and ran around the warehouse of the side door. The flames were higher now and spread back and around the sides of the building. The piles of stock were blazing and there was just a narrow aisle leading to the office. I put my coat of my head and ran as fast as I could along the aisle. I reached the office door and got in. Over by the desk there was a thick smoke that could see someone slump down on the floor. It was Della. I stooped over and picked her up noticing even then I thought she'd be. I thought I'd never make it. But I had to! I had to! I had to get Della out. The aisle seemed miles long, a flaming eternity. I almost made it to the door when I... I must have tripped. Everything went black. No, you must lie still. You're badly burned. Della, fire, fire. I know what you think. You kept calling my name all the way to the hospital. But I wasn't the person in the office. It was Mr. Wheeler. It was Mr. Wheeler's life. Wheeler? I thought it was Della in the office. But why wasn't she burned as I was? There she sat, more lovely, more beautiful than I'd ever seen her before. It was Mr. Wheeler you rescued. I was all confused. I didn't understand. I thought that when I get better she can explain it to me. I couldn't go on wondering what this mystery was all around her. She had to explain it to me. But she smiled at wonderful smile of hers and slowly shook her head. No, that won't be possible. After today you won't see me anymore. Della, I won't see you. You should be happy. Remember I said to you once that I never grow older than 21 and that I wouldn't be 21 until something special happened. That something did happen. It happened when you forgot the hate and resentment in your mind and let your heart send you into that burning office to risk your life. All you had for someone else don't you see? Don't you know what I am? You don't understand. Perhaps you'll never understand. But that doesn't matter for now. I'm part of you and no one can ever take me away from you. I'll be here. She placed her hand over my heart and here. She put her hand on my forehead and here. She bent over and kissed me gently. She kissed me. That was three years ago and I never saw Della again. What did I see her? Earlier this evening I went down to the bar again down to the place where Della then a sickly little girl had first stopped me and told me she was hungry. Which is about an hour ago. I was standing there thinking about her when I felt someone come up to serve me. Say Ken, can you spare a few cents for a meal, Mr. This kid I looked down and there holding a dirty unshaven bum by the hand was a little girl about five or six years old. She's pretty sick, Mr. Honest, it's for her. I reached into my pocket and handed the bum a dollar bill. A dollar? Thanks, Mr. Thanks. The bum held the dollar in his hand and looked at it. He must have thought of the meals he could get for her. Or the bottle of alcohol he would buy. A dollar. One year to the next. He just looked at it and he sort of hesitated a bit. Then he turned to the little girl. Here you are, kid. It's a dollar. He can buy a lot with it. He put the dollar in the kid's hand and walked away quickly. And little girl stood looking after him. A new light transformed her face and a dark shadow under her eyes seemed to disappear. She was smiling. A tender, beautiful smile. It was just as if I hadn't been there. Little girl. She stood there looking after him, smiling. Softly I walked away in the opposite direction. I walked and walked. I thought about what I had just seen. And then I began to understand what Della was and what she stood for. I realized that Della wasn't real. She was the goodness in my heart. The kindness and gentleness in the hearts of all men. Perhaps at times it's small and weak and sickly as it wasn't me when I first met Della. But in everyone, it's always there. Waiting for the chance to grow up. Just like Della. This is Betty Lennigan. Who was Della? Was she a real person? Was she a figment of the imagination? Let us just suppose that Della was real. Not real in the flesh, but real in the mind. Let's call Della goodness. You know, it's true that there is goodness in every man's heart. But it is also true that some of us don't even know that this goodness exists in our own hearts. We get so involved with our own everyday problems and difficulties that we sometimes forget that other people too have these same problems. Problems that perhaps we could help them with. And as I was listening just now to the story of Della I thought of a little experiment that we could all try to help us develop this goodness that is in our hearts. And it's this. If each one of us beginning today right after this program would make a special effort to be just a little more thoughtful, a little gentler, a little kinder to those around us the ones we love most. Our family. Well, then think how much easier it would be say tomorrow morning to be a little more thoughtful at office or at school or on the street. And here's something that might help this experiment along. A Della, so to speak. It's the practice of daily family prayer. For is it not true that God is goodness? And those who are close to him seek in everything an opportunity to do good. That's why in a home where there is the daily practice of a family prayer is a spirit of goodness. That's why the family that prays together stays together. Why not try it today and see if it doesn't work. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. James McCallion. The script was written by Howard Williams with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman and was directed for Family Theater by Joseph F. Mansfield. This is Larry Chatterton expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home. And inviting you to be with us again next week when Family Theater will present Lullaby of Christmas starring Roddy McDowell. Join us, won't you? Family Theater originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network. The new school broadcasting system.