I must have said something to Rachel, but I can’t remember what. My mind was reeling. Rachel had her own “mother problems,” but I’d been so worried about my image that I hadn’t even noticed. Maybe what she’d said about being hung up on appearances had hit me so hard because it fit.
An almost-forgotten Bible verse came back to me, something about people looking at the outward appearance, but God looking at the heart. So I looked it up?1 Samuel 16:7. While I’d envied Rachel and her beautiful, sophisticated mother, my mom had seen straight into Rachel’s heart. Maybe God had called her to this job, after all.
“Heather? Were you waiting for me?” Mom looked surprised to see me still standing in the hall.
“Yeah. How about stopping on the way home for ice cream? My treat.”
Her eyebrows rose. “What brought all this on?”
“Nothing,” I shrugged as we started down the hall together. “Just?I love you, Mom. Just the way you are.”
“I love you just the waaay you aaaaaarrrre!” she sang, draping her arm across my shoulders.
I threw my head back and gave my best impression of Mr. Mitchell’s Labrador.