Cassandra Loh

Thursday, June 01, 2006

i saw the car just before it hit me. i seemed to float. then darkness smashed my senses.

i came to in an ambulance. opening my eyes, i could see only shreds of light through my bandaged, swollen eye lids.i didn't know it then, but small particles of gravel and dirt were embedded in my freckled sixteen-yr-old face. as i tried to touch it, someone tenderly pressed my arm down and whispered "lie still".

a wailing siren trailed dstantly somewhere, and i slipped into uncounsiousness. my last thoughts were a desperate prayer. "Dear God, not my face, please."

Like many teenage girls, i found much of my identity in my APPEARANCE. adolescence revolved around my outside image. being pretty meant i had lots of dates and a wide circle of friends.

in the hours immediately after the accident, i drifted in and out of consciousness.whenever my mind was cleared, even slightly, i wondered about my face. i was bleedin internally and had severe concussion, but it never occured to me that my concern with appearance was disproportionate.

the next few days, no nurses or family members would agree to giving me a mirror.. as my body healed internally and my strengeth returned.. i became more difficult. i kept pleading with everyone for a mirror, including my dad. but he was always giving a firm no. then, all i could scream was " dad you don't love me!!! i am not pretty and u don;t love me anymore!"

my dad looked as though someone had knocked the life out of him. he slumped into a chair and pot his head in his hands. my mother walked over and put her hands on his shoulder as he tried to control his tears. i collapsed in the pillow.

i didn't ask my parents for a mirror again. instead i waited for someone from housekeeping to come. could u get me a mirror please? i mus haf mislaid mine." after a while , she handed me a mirror.

nothing could have prepared me for what i saw. an image that resembles a diant scraped knee, oozing an dpink, looked out a me. my eyes and lips were crusted and swollen. hardly a patch of skin escaped from this truama.

my dad arrived later. he found me staring into the mirror. prying my fingers from the mirror, he said " it isn;t impt. this does not change anything that matters. noone will love u less. i know what u think.this will not change anything. those hu love u have seen u at the worst. i changed your diapers, wathed ur skin blister with chicken pox, wiped your bloddy nose and help your head when u threw up in the toilet. i loved u even when u were not pretty. FATHERS DO NOT STOP LOVING THEIR CHILDREN, NO MATTER WHAT LIFE TAKES."

"look at me daddy. tell me you will always love me." i will never forget wad happened next. as he loooked into my battered face, his eyes were filled with tears. slowly, he leaned towards me and with his eyes opened, he kissed my scabbed, oozing lips.

many years passed. all that rwmains of my accident is a tiny scar above my eyebrow. but my father's kiss, and what it taught me about love, will never leave my lips.

wad a sweet story. when i was reading this story from stories for the extreme teens' hearts.. i was so touched.. we keep complaining abt how we look, how others prettier. more sporty, smarter and all. but these all do not affect how much our Father loves us. like wad my pet sae.. it is not easy.. but may this be a constant reminder to us ba. He loves us, no matter if we are the prettiest gal in class or the ugliest, shortest, fattest, pimpled-face gal.. so who else matters except for Him?

your name wrote at ;; 10:51 PM