Friday, February 1, 2013


“Am I beautiful?” Melisa implored of her mother.

Her mother, loading the dishwasher, paused for a moment to look at her daughter. “What brought this on?”

“Tommy at school called me ugly, but I don’t think I’m ugly.”

“Of course not, dear. You’re lovely in your own special way,” replied her mother while reaching for another dish.

“But am I beautiful?” queried Melisa again; eyes wide in eager anticipation.

“Yes, honey, you’re beautiful.”

Melisa, satisfied with the answer, rolled her wheelchair back to the living room to watch TV.

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