Mirror, mirror

There’s a woman dressed in fine, clothes regal in appearance, very proud of her beauty and statue. She turns toward her looking glass, and just as in the fairy tale, asks it jokingly, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” To her horror, the reflection in the mirror morphs into a powerfully monstrous, grotesque figure seething with hatred and fury — oh, the shock to see her features on that corrupt image! Her horror melts to woeful shame, and there, reflected, is another image, this one of a sobbing, frightened child in total darkness. She immediately recognizes this little one from her own memories and feelings, and a great compassion for the child swells in her. Now finally, the mirror morphs again, this time reflecting the most serene and lovely visage – if you could drape a transparent cloak of pure love over a face, you would know the softly brilliant countenance the mirror showed her. She smiles, and with a grateful nod, acknowledges the great lesson she’s been given.