Tales of Light

BEAUTY UNSEEN

"And now, we present the winner of the Shinning Belle Award," the vibrant treble of the announcer echoed through the hall. "Helen Popoola!"

The crowd went agog with screams.

I cringed.

It was time to pull out my trump card. My signature warm (fake) smile was plastered on my face as I sauntered down the stage to collect my trophy. I wondered how no one has been able to see past my facade.

I gingerly accepted the golden statue—a model in a perfect pose which now had my name etched at the base.
Taking a deep breath, I spoke into the microphone as I raised it.

"I dedicate this to you all. You guys made this possible."

I scanned the crowd. My gaze landed on the honey-brown orbs of a teenage girl.

Her placard was the only odd one in this crowd.

'JESUS LOVES YOU! JESUS SEES YOU!' it read.

I don't know why, but that simple statement struck something inside me.

She smiled knowingly.

My eyes widened. I felt as though she knew everything I was hiding.

I felt tears rise in my eyes. With effort, I broke the connection and escaped while the crowd kept chanting my name.

Behind the curtains, my feet felt wobbly and I collapsed into a heap on the floor.
My manager hurried over to my side just in time.

"Helen," he said in a panic as he helped me steady myself. "Why are you crying? You did great! We won this. Are you feeling sick?"

I looked at him through pained eyes. What would he say when he finds out I'm expiring?

Last month, I found out I had inoperable breast cancer.

I kept it a secret and kept pursuing my long-time dream of becoming a world-renown beauty queen.

Depression crept in, and I tried to numb it with alcohol.

What was the use of the glamour and fame if no one could see the real me if no o ne could hear my silent cry, if it would all end up to nothing at the end of the day?

I sniffed and composed myself.

"I'll be fine, Mr Richard. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed, that's all," I lied.

Remembering the twinkle in that girl's eyes, I felt an irresistible nudge. I pulled out my phone. I had to talk to someone.

Oddly, the only person that came to mind, was my pious roommate back in college. I had always mocked Grace's stupidity then. Well, look how tables had turned now.

Without interrupting, she listened to my rant about what a mess my life had become.

"I have been praying for you, Helen. Jesus sees you. And he wants you, warts, farts and all."

I chuckled. It was the most mirthful sound I had made in over a month.

"If He will have me, then I want Him too," I whispered.

Her smile over the phone was palpable. "He does. All you have to do is tell Him."

~~~

Author's note: This was a microfiction piece I played around with a while back. Know this: Jesus sees you as beautiful regardless of your past or your inner turmoil. Coming to Him is what makes that beauty glow outwards. 💖💖💖