On Being Beautiful
I first encountered beauty when my father introduced me to her. She stood there proudly smiling back at me. She looked a lot like Momma. She had the same eyes, the same curl in her lips, but there was something different about her. Something unique. Extraordinary. She was there standing beside Daddy, and she, beauty, looked an awful lot like me. Daddy told me whenever I felt down, or sad, or blue because I got my heart broke…to go back and look for beauty, because she would be there in the mirror looking for me.