Mother

1985, December snowstorms outside the window. I am 5 years old, and tomorrow I have a morning performance at kindergarten, I will be a snowflake! There is a holiday feeling in my heart, and I long for magic, but with my white skirt and boots, there is nothing magical about it. I wake up the next morning, and next to my bed, there is a crown! I can't believe my eyes and don't even get up to take it in my hands. How beautiful it is! It shimmers in silver and sparkles in the winter morning sun. Mom enters.

• Do you like it? Do you want to try it on? I can't believe that this is the same boring cardboard crown that they started making with dad yesterday. Now I am a real snowflake and can work wonders! Is a child born perfect? Beloved? Confident? Not at all.. To see our beauty, we must see the reflection of that beauty in someone else's eyes. To love ourselves, someone must look at us with love. We are mirrors - reflections of others' eyes, others' feelings. I hold the crown and in the crushed shards of Christmas tree decorations glued with silicon glue on cardboard, I see myself and mom. I am loved... Love is passed down from generation to generation. And again and again, mothers "crown" their daughters with love, and daughters will pass the "crown" to their daughters. It's good to have something to pass on... My magical mom led me by the hand all through my childhood so I wouldn't stumble, and when I grew up, she let go with a smile. Now the "crown" is mine, and I have something to share. Now it's my turn to reflect the beauty of others and hold their hand.