My thirteenth year of life was horrible. I was changing from a girl into a woman, and I felt everything and everyone was against me.
Christmas Eve and none of my clothes from the year before were
fitting, and I could do nothing with my frizzy curls. I cried for at
least an hour after stomping up the stairs in utter frustration with
my mean mother who did not understand me at all! Then came the gentle
knock on the door. My mother had a red turtleneck and a beautiful
white fuzzy sweater across her right arm; "May I come in?" She came
in and helped me dress; then we went to her room where she did my hair
and even did my make-up. She then let me borrow one of her necklaces.
Everyone was waiting downstairs for us to come down so we could open
presents. As I walked down those stairs, I felt like the most
beautiful girl on the entire planet. I felt like everyone on the
whole earth was watching me descend down the stairs (not just my
family). I have never felt more beautiful in my whole life.
The other day, I saw a picture of that Christmas Eve. I remembered
feeling so beautiful, but as I looked at the picture, I just saw a
plain girl in her mother's sweater with frizzy curls.
So what had
made the difference?
My mother's opinion of me. Her time and
attention and her care, along with a few complements, I'm sure, made me
feel like a beauty queen.
Never underestimate the power of a mother's touch.