Paint Them Red

If you remember back to Alice In Wonderland, you'll remember the part where Alice happens to come across the card soldiers frantically painting the white roses red. The Queen really wanted them to be red, and so the roses had to be covered with red paint in order to conceal that they were the wrong color.
Is that some kind of metaphor for the Handmaids? I don't know.
At first I didn't know what they were. See, in these times, no one can have children. Pollution really messed people up and a lot of them became infertile. The new government is pretty intent on survival and thus made these handmaids. They wear these big red dresses and white hats that cover almost their entire face. They're assigned to a family and more or less used as a surrogate mother. As an Angel, when I get old I can very well be assigned a handmaid of my own.
Usually I'm not around town, but I've seen more than one of those handmaids. They keep to themselves, I suppose they're not allowed to converse with men at all. The few words I could ever get out of one are generic phrases they're taught to keep themselves out of trouble. "Praise be" "God bless" and all that.
One time I was walking down the street and something very strange happened. One of those handmaids, drenched in red cloth, appeared right in front of me and grabbed the front of my shirt.
"Can you?" She whispered desperately.
"Can I what?" I asked irritably. It wasn't like them to even cast an eye on me. I knew they did whenever they could. Phoebe talked about how my looks had been the first thing she had noticed about me.
"Can you make children?" She sobbed.
"Ma'am..." I slowly pushed her away. "Go home."
"They'll send me away!" She wailed, "If I don't have a baby, they'll send me away!"
Guardians were running toward the handmaid and me.
I had the authority.
What could I do?
"She's not in her right mind." I yelled at the guardians, "stand back if you value your position."
They wouldn't dare disobey me in my uniform. Angels fought for peace and justice.
"You should go home and get some rest. Where is your companion?" I asked, "You shouldn't be out by yourself."
"Oh have mercy!"
"Where is your companion?" I growled, reaching toward my belt threateningly.
Slowly, wrenching from sobs, she pointed.
"Go back to her. Go home. Never attempt this again. The great Gilead demands loyalty and obedience of its citizens." The words seemed so sticky. I was reminded hazily of my attempts at learning French, for reasons I didn't quite fathom.
"Y-yes sir..." She whispered. She turned away.
The guardians were glaring at me.
"You'll be punished for this."
"No." I said, "I did nothing wrong. The woman was sick. She'll be better in the morning. Perhaps she even has the blessing of pregnancy."
I was only relieved it was not Phoebe who dressed in red.
Some people really hate the handmaids. They're jealous the handmaids are the ones our country depends on, the ones who are given the gravest medical attention, the one who steals away one night a month from the wife's husband. I do not hold these women in disdain. They are simply offering what little they have to society.