A Great Beauty

She was a great beauty. A famous beauty. Known far and wide for her breathtaking smile, her rosy cheeks and lips, cascading blond curls, pert nose, alluring figure. Her beauty was celebrated. People came to stare and be stunned. Prizes were awarded. Crowns were conferred. She was young. So young.

Her great beauty captured the heart of a dashing man. The day they met she was swimming in a stream when he came galloping up on horseback. He was devastatingly handsome, charming, a perfect match. Her heart soon belonged to him. She was married at eighteen. A mother at nineteen. Like something out of a storybook, only it's isn't. It's real.

Her portrait hung on the wall in a golden frame. The white dress, the glittering crown. I was fascinated by it as child, have been fascinated by it my whole life. This image, perfectly preserved in time, of the woman who is now a great-grandmother. Who is my grandmother. The woman who still carries such a great beauty, still radiates that beauty, with her rosy cheeks and lips, her blond curls. A beauty only enhanced by the lines on her face. By the wisdom of such a long, full life in her eyes. A beauty that comes, that has always come, from her love and her kindness. Her strength. Her tenderness. Her wit. Her fierce devotion to her family. Her unfailing generosity. Selflessness.

I wonder if she knows, even now, how her great beauty has shaped me; how it shaped even my very perception of beauty. I have seen beauty pour from her, from the inside out, and color everything around it. Life is made more beautiful in her presence. I am made more beautiful in her gaze. Does she know how much I admire her and adore her? How proud I am to be hers? How I have emulated her, as best I could? Does she know how beautiful she was, and is? Will always be? She is a great beauty. A true beauty. And I celebrate her great beauty today.