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LEA'S GIFT

By Delia Latham & Tanya Stowe

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The scars on my face have never bothered me.
I’ve always known—always—how fortunate I am to have made it through the fire that could have taken my life as an infant. Sure, people can be cruel…sometimes intentionally, but most often not. They just don’t know how to react when they see a face like mine. The right side didn’t get touched by the flames, but the left side is…well, it’s pretty bad.
But I have people who love me and see beyond my disfigurement to who I am inside. That’s a pretty big blessing, and I am endlessly grateful.
Doctors refused to try any kind of corrective procedures until after my eighteenth birthday. That was three years ago, and still I haven’t started the grueling series of surgeries that might improve my appearance. Needless to say, it isn’t going to be a fun experience, but that’s not why I haven’t taken that first step, despite my dad’s constant reminders that I can start any time. I know it’s probably hard for most people to believe, but I simply haven’t felt the need.
Until today.
I woke up this morning the same Lea Dale I’ve been all my life...a scarred but completely happy girl who talks to angels and tries to find some good in everybody. My besties, Eva Kate and Savannah, say I’m a bit of a Pollyanna, but that’s okay. I like being who I am.
Or at least, I did until now.
Probably should have known things were going to get sticky when my old friend Solomon showed up just as I finished getting ready for the day and headed for my bedroom door. I was already running a little late, and had a feeling Auntie Shay—that’s my mom’s beautiful sister, who once was a famous actress—would be wondering where I was.
I spun away from the bathroom mirror after doing what I could to make myself presentable, and rounded the corner into my bedroom, rushing to grab my tote before heading off to work. For me, that means walking down a little hill just east of my parent’s house and showing up at Looking Glass Ranch, my family’s therapeutic campground for scarred and disfigured teens. It’s been going strong since I was a kid, and I never questioned whether I’d be a part of its operation as an adult—I always knew it was what I wanted to do. But, family-operated or not, I’m expected to be there every day, and on time, just like everyone else. Most of the time, I am, but I’d been up really late the night before, getting my Christmas list together. I’m a real stickler for lists and plans and schedules. Orderliness is important to me.
So I’d overslept a little and the crystal clock on a wall shelf in my bathroom said I should’ve been down the hill five minutes ago. I jammed around the corner at full blast and nearly barreled smack into Solomon, who reached out to steady me without saying a word.
"Solomon!" I shrieked and rushed over for a hug. It’d been at least a year since his last visit, and it was nice to see that he still looked exactly the same. He wore a long white robe, sashed at the waist with a shiny belt that gleamed like real gold. Maybe it is gold, I don’t know. His sandals match the belt, but then, so do his eyes, and his hair, which hangs past his shoulders and flows freely around his face.
He’s beautiful. Oh…did I mention that Solomon’s an angel? He’s the first of God’s winged messengers I ever met, and the only one who seems to be a permanent fixture in my life. It’s not like he’s an everyday part of things, but he shows up now and then, when there’s a reason. I love him with a very special, holy kind of love. He’s never said it, but I’m pretty sure Solomon loves me, too.
"Lea." Solomon’s smile is rare, but it always fills me with an amazing joy, and makes me want to do something to make someone else feel that same way. "I am happy to see you, young friend."
"Me, too!" I bounced up and down on my tiptoes like a child, so excited to see him. Why hadn’t I realized how long it had been, and how much I missed my friend? Then I remembered that Solomon never shows up "just because." Maybe I should dampen the enthusiasm until I had the skinny on his reason for being there. "Um…is something wrong?"
He shook his head, and the gentle movement of silky hair made me never want to look away. It’s beauty can be mesmerizing. "No, child. I bring good news."
"Really?" I grinned. This was turning out to be the best kind of visit. "So tell me already."
"I will." He reached out with one long finger and touched my cheek. The left one, with all the scars. "You’ve seen a lot in your lifetime, Lea Dale. Much pain, but a great deal of joy, as well. You’ve been happy when others received special blessings of love and happiness, prosperity, and success."
I shrugged. "I’d be a pretty awful person otherwise, wouldn’t I?"
Solomon shook his head. "Few people on this earth are able to truly be happy when good things happen to others. Most humans harbor at least some small measure of envy. But not you, Lea. Your selflessness is pleasing to the Master."
"Well, I’m glad. I want to please the Lord."
"You do. And now, Lea, it’s your turn."
Sometimes Solomon spoke in circles, or just slightly above my head. "My turn?‛ I had no clue what he meant. "What do you mean?"
He smiled again, and my heart jumped with pure joy, which I deliberately put a lid on for the moment. I wanted to understand Solomon’s message. His being here meant something big was in the air.
"It’s your turn to be blessed, Lea. Your life is about to change, starting today."
Now my heart jumped with something other than joy. Change has never been my favorite thing, and a little ball of uneasiness bounced around in my tummy like a kitten on catnip. "Ch- change? How?"
"Do not fear. The Father wants only the best for you. But you must accept His gift with your whole heart and be willing to risk the comfort of the familiar to find your way to something new and better."

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