In my room is a mirror.
It is no ordinary mirror. It is a happy mirror.
You can adjust its gaze by bending its back, and as you bend it, it makes the reflection look better.
Currently the mirror is bent nearly in two, making my fifty-something frame look like it is twenty one… again!
Like most people it responds well to kind words and makes my image look good.
Mirror mirror on the wall, make me look seventeen or I’ll kick you down the hall.
It may respond with, I’m only wood and I’m only glass, to make you look seventeen, is out of my class.
Hmm. That wasn’t what I was expecting.
Speaking of mirrors. Have you ever noticed how a child mimics its parents?
Do you hear your mannerisms and comments being broadcast to all and sundry?
Or that embarrassing moment when your child, in front of you, tells someone they look like Michael Jackson’s mother-in-law. Now where did they get that from?
What of the child who doesn’t have a parent? What or who do they mimic?
What of the child who knows nothing but institutionalism, beating, and abuse? Who do they reflect?
What happens when love fails a child? Does the mirror reflect the shattered pieces? Broken shards of precious humanity made in the image of God.
My new book Aunt Tabbie’s Wings, will make you laugh and make you cry. Due out in May.
Paradise Warrior will be available in soft cover end of March.