“Daddy, why don’t I have a beautiful mother like the other girls do?”
There was nothing mean or critical about this question. Pauline was a very sweet little nine year old. But it was true. Her mother’s arms and legs were mottled. She had nice long hair and blue eyes, but she wouldn’t win a beauty contest.
“Well, honey,”her father said, “When you were very little, mommy came home to find the house was on fire. The fireman told her your brother and the baby sitter were okay but you were still trapped inside. ‘My baby! My baby!’ she shrieked. ‘Lady, you can’t go in there! It’s an inferno! We’re sorry!’ And they pushed her away.”
“She dashed around to the end of the block, vaulted two fences, dragged a heavy picnic table to the back of the house, climbed up on a chair and smashed the window to the landing of the stairway. Holding her coat over her head, she crawled up to the second floor, through fire and smoke. You came out unscathed, but mommy emerged cut and bruised, with burns and severe smoke inhalation. She was in the hospital for a week, we almost lost her.”
Pauline’s mother came into the living room from the kitchen. “Hey! What have you two been up to?”
Her little girl ran over to her, threw her arms around her and hugged her! “Oh, Mommy I love you!”
Somewhat puzzled she said, “Well that’s good to hear, honey, I love you too!”
Based on a true story.