My dad sat in his chair, watching as his three daughters and wife scurried across the room, shopping bags in hand, with the destination being his and my mom’s bedroom. He exchanged a quick smile with my mom, both knowing what was to come. We were three little girls who had been out for the day with our mom, as she took us from store to store looking for the perfect Easter dress. Thinking back, I’m sure she was exhausted by the time we got home, but she didn’t let that stop her enthusiasm, as she guided us to her bedroom. 

Upon getting into the bedroom, we dumped our bags of clothes out on their king-sized bed. We soon began getting changed into our new dresses.  We would have shoes to match and on some years, even a hat and gloves would be added to complete the outfit. Mom would make her way around the bedroom buttoning, zipping, and clipping anything that needed fastening, with each of us vying for her attention. High pitched chatter echoed in the room, as prepared to make our grand entry. Lining up in single file by bedroom door as soon as we were “ready”, we smoothed our dresses and our messed-up hair that had had little attention on this busy day. Mom smiled and looked us over one more time, and walked out of the room. 

The layout of our living room made for the perfect stage. The upper living room, which held the door of my parent’s bedroom, created a large platform, before dropping down into the lower level, where my dad would sit. His chair positioned perfectly for the “show” that was about to happen on the “stage”.

As my mom walked out to the stage, my dad would turn off the tv; his attention would be on his wife, as she prepared to introduce the three little girls, one by one, who would be coming out of the bedroom to show off their new Easter outfits.  

Giggling from the bedroom, we would push the first sister out of the doorway and onto the stage. The youngest would come bounding out of the bedroom enthusiastically, twirling in front of dad, fully soaking in the fact that she was now the center of attention. My other sister and I each came out a little more reserved, perhaps looking down slightly, yet with smiles making their way across our faces, as we inwardly waited for a little more prompting from our parents. But it didn’t take long before all three of us would be twirling and doing our silly model poses in front of a dad who was beaming with pride. After each one made her entry, the clapping, and ooo’s and ahhh’s could be heard throughout the house. Sounds that perhaps unknowingly, added to the self-esteem of three little girls, making them each feel like they were the most beautiful girls in the world. Sounds that validated three little girls in a way that they would carry throughout their lives. At that moment, there were no three girls in the world who felt more beautiful and loved than the ones in our home. 

Often as parents, we don’t recognize in the moment, how much our actions impact or will impact our children. This can of course, go both ways, negative and positive, but in this case, it was all positive. It was a tradition that had been created by my parents. We didn’t go on shopping trips often. We didn’t have all the best clothes growing up. But there were three times during the year, that we would have a “big” shopping trip. One for our Easter dress. One for our Christmas dress. And one at the end of the summer for our school clothes. And at the end of each of those trips, the routine would be the same. We would bustle in the house, bags in hand, scurry into my parent’s bedroom, dump the clothes, and get changed. Then the fashion show would begin. I can’t remember a time when my mom was too tired to help us get ready. I can’t remember a time when my dad was too busy to turn the tv off and cheer on his daughters, as they showed off their new outfits. I can’t remember a time, whether six years old or sixteen years old, that my sisters and I were too busy not to make the fashion show our first order of business when we arrived home. It had become a tradition. It had become an opportunity for three little girls, then three young ladies, to be shown by their parents that they were worth their focus. They were valued. And they were beautiful. 

When I look back on photos and think back to some of those days, I was anything but physically beautiful by the world’s standards. I often had stringy hair. I was sort of scrawny, ok, there was no “sort of” involved; I was scrawny. My teeth appeared too large for my tiny face. I was far from being graceful. And yet that never stopped the applause from parent’s who placed their attention and love on me, just as I was. Affirming to me, that yes, I was definitely a treasure to the two people who mattered the most to me, my mommy and my daddy.

Not everyone has a story of parents who cheered them on in life, whether in the manner of a fashion show, a ballgame, or school work. Not everyone has had the privilege of having parent’s pour into them, making them feel as if they are the most important person in the world. And if we’re honest, most of us, at some point in our life, have questioned whether we really are of value. Whether we are worth the investment. Whether we are “good enough”.

Yet, there is a God, the Creator of the Universe, who created each one of us, who thinks each one of us is the most beautiful person. Who thinks each person is a treasure. Who thinks each person is of utmost value. Who loves each one of us more than words can express. Who does not look at any person through the eyes of the world, but through the eyes of His Son, Jesus. 

I pray today that you will acknowledge that you are fully loved, fully embraced by the perfect Father. Allow this truth to wash over you. Envision our Creator, cheering for you, filled with pride, as you walk the stage of life. 

Misty Cramer ©2021