2001-09-28 - 10:11 a.m.

the beauty

I'm thinking today of my black-haired girl.

After 3 little boys, I had given up hope but here she came. There was a little Mexican boy born the same night, and if she hadn't come long before he got to the hospital, I'd have thought the babies were switched. Lots of stiff black hair, while he had not much at all.

Even from the first, she was striking in appearance. Beautiful little features, and black black eyes. Her brothers always doted on her, especially 3s. He would push her walker while he nipped on her bottle, which had just been taken away from him not many months ago!

As she grew to a toddler and beyond, she looked like a little model. She had a petulant expression, and with those eyes, drew lots of attention. We didn't see it at the time, but she was very spoiled. We called her our little Indian because of the dark looks she gave, and she made up an Indian name for herself when she was 3 or 4 and imagined she'd been stolen from an Indian Chief. 800 encouraged her in this and we'd make getaways from the Indians as we'd travel over the Palouse hills to gramma's house.

She won a contest for having the longest hair in the county when she was 10 or so. I curled it each weekend in the metal curlers, and when the curls relaxed later in the week, she wore it braided.

When I think how she was petted and indulged, it is no wonder she has so little self control or discipline now. I know she remembers the days of beauty, and it must seem strange to her to have that all hidden under the pounds. The striking personality has never left or the dark looks. I see those looks reflected back in the new generation as e looks at me sometimes.

Father, lead her to You.

EE's devotional

newAutumn Leaves

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