*****Happy belated FOURTH OF JULY America!*****

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Mirroring Truth.

For a girl, at least, the mirror often defines her day. A scale, conversation, grade, compliment, or person can, too, but I think a mirror’s ready availability in bedrooms, bathrooms, storefronts, closets and so on, provides them the most clout. I don’t know how many times we look at our reflection in a day? And who knows how to factor in the time spent with each of these “looks,” given the variety of angles and areas we need to approve?

Here there are very few mirrors. If you walk into town, some of the stores reflect you off their glass, but overall, one is forced to be far less aware of his/her reflection. I know on paper I’m identified as God’s daughter, that will not hold me indefinitely, or often even temporarily, a lot of the time. What does this mean then? How will a mirror-less culture flesh-out, when I’m still an image-oriented being who ‘will’ figure out ways to define herself?

On healthy days, I’ve found it to be the babies. The babies help me understand my identity. They reflect back to me a good portion of my image. They reflect back my expression—first considering my eyes, then surveying my demeanor. And in their speechless sensitivity, they ask me how I feel.

The mirror cares how I feel, too, I guess, but it tells me; it doesn’t ask. It defines me; it doesn’t discern.

How can something so small and unable, reflect back such purified strength and articulation?