EYES OF THE BEHOLDER

I spent a lot of time wishing I was pretty, and crying because people said I was ugly, and I believed them. I had very white skin (allergy to the sun so I could never tan but burned severly), hundreds of blotchy freckles that often came out green after sun exposure and gradually darkened. I had crooked teeth (no money for orthodontics), and straight hair always cut at home with crooked lines.  I was sensitive and emotional and clingy, trying to hug and show love, was outspoken and loud, usually in your face and pointing out uncomfortable truths.

My older brother Stewart thought it was fun to make me mad and tease me. He had nicknamed me Micki Icky. When I tried to tag along with my brothers and they wanted to get rid of me, they'd make fun of me until I went away crying. One summer day they told all the kids in the neighborhood that I was called Micki Icky because I had real "cooties." They said you could tell because, looking at my arms and face, you would see some green spots which I called freckles but were really the sign of cooties, that could be caught by being close to me. So when I came out to play that day all the kids began to shout, "Here comes Micki Icky! Run or she'll give you the cooties!" I ran away to my secret place under the branches of a weeping willow and threw myself onto the dusty ground. I sobbed and was so sad I wished I could die because no one would love me. Then I heard in my mind the words "I love you," and I felt loved and calmed. I answered back, in my mind, "Thank you, but I wish a person would love me."

When I was little I used to ask my Mom hopefully if I was pretty. She said no and that I was kind of homely looking. She said her family used to tell her that when she was little, and that she did't like it but it was the truth. And I looked a lot like her. I thought a lot about what people like in looks, and tried not to be superficial and to remember that it's what's inside that counts. I loved the story of Beauty and the Beast and decided that its moral was most correct: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

On the first day of second grade we all had to line up by class, and the black girl standing next to me, Sheila, looked scared and wouldn't get close. The teacher kept yelling at her to stand next to me. She bit my shoulder very hard and I screamed. Our teacher looked at the bleeding bruise and demanded to know why she did that. Sheila said, "Look at her. She's white with those ugly green and brown spots. I wanted to see if she was real!" We later became good friends.

It's how we are seen: If we're loved by someone we are beheld as beautiful. My husband, Dale, always said I was beautiful and I thought he was just being kind, but, as he reminds me, he doesn't flatter. He loves me and sees me the way God does!

I sometimes have grace-filled moments where I see all the people around me in perfection. That is such an awesome experience. It's like watching a movie with perfect casting, when I ask myself, "How did they find that person to play that part so well?!" Every person you see is an intriguing, mysterious, and unrepeatable. If you look at them the way they are meant to be seen, and appreciate the creation and Creator, a kind of universal bond allows you to realize that here is someone with an amazing story, who is valuable for themselves and somehow carrying a part of you.

I broke my tooth the other day and have a large gap--very humiliating! I look like the hillbilly stereotype. I wondered if Dale would still love me as much. Dale laughed at me and called me Lilith Snerd (Mortimer Snerd was Edgar Bergen's hillbilly puppet with missing teeth). He helps me laugh at myself. My kids see my beauty and cheer me on, especially when I'm putting myself down. Dear Julia, my fifteen year old, often tells me I'm beautiful, and she loves me so much! Now she says I  look younger, like a seven-year-old with a missing tooth!