Monday, April 12, 2010

Coffee House Princess

I was sitting outside a coffee shop with a friend in the late afternoon sun. A father and his two small children walked by us. The older of the two, addressing her younger brother, said, "I am a fashion model in the mirror." She flipped her hair, and skipped with her feet. She was probably only six or seven, but she truly understands what a princess she is. I could see it in her face, in her gestures, and in the way she danced down the sidewalk. I watched her skip by our table, and follow her father out to the car. What a shame that probably only a few years from now, she will no longer recognize what a princess she is, or how beautiful, or how very precious. She will likely be comparing herself to her friends, and trying hard to fit in whether by the clothes she's wearing, or in the activities she chooses to be involved. She will look for attention from guys, and she may hide her true self inside in the hopes that she can become what her world tells her she should be. She may go to extremem ends to have the body and the hair, and the skin, and the abilities that are praised in movies, or on magazine covers. I will probably never see her agian, or get to talk to her, but I hope she never decides she's not a beautiful princess. I hope that she only grows in her sweet preciousness that captivated me as she told her brother who she was outside that coffee shop. I hope she remains confident and sure of her beautiful femininity. And I hope that she aspires to be nothing less than the princess that she is.

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