Loved As God Made You

The hallway felt different. The clock on the wall ticked louder. Somewhere in the kitchen, a spoon clinked against a bowl.

“Lina?” Grandma called. “Are you coming?”

“In a minute!” Lina answered.

She took one step toward the mirror. Her shoes made a quiet squeak on the floor.

The mirror did not speak. Lina knew that. Yet the teasing thoughts kept coming.

Your smile looks funny.

You are not as clever as other children.

Maybe God made everyone else special, but forgot you.

Lina’s smile faded. She wanted to turn around and run to Grandma, but she had planned to walk all the way through the hall without hiding. She wanted to feel sure.

She pressed both hands against the sides of her green shirt.

“God made me,” she said.

The words felt true. But the teasing thoughts felt loud.

Lina tried to fix her hair. She pulled one curl down, then tucked it behind her ear. It sprang back up. She smoothed her shirt and stood straighter.

“There,” she said.

For a moment, she felt better.

Then she noticed the mirror’s tiny spots and the way her nose looked when she leaned close.

You still do not look right.

Lina stepped back. Her heel bumped the small wooden bench beneath the mirror. The bench wobbled, and a cloth bag slid to the floor.

“Oh!” Lina bent down quickly.

The bag had been holding Grandma Rosa’s colorful scarves. They spilled across the rug - blue, orange, purple, and gold. Lina gathered them into a pile, but one scarf slipped beneath the bench.

She reached for it and found a small wooden box instead. The box had a painted flower on top.

Grandma appeared at the end of the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Did the hall give you a job?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“I knocked the scarves down,” Lina said. “I was trying to walk past the mirror.”

Grandma knelt beside her. “Then we will put them back together.”

They folded the scarves one by one. The blue scarf was smooth and cool. The orange one smelled faintly of lavender. Lina placed them in the bag while Grandma held it open.

“Thank you,” Grandma said. “You noticed the mess and helped fix it.”

Lina looked at the mirror again. “Grandma, do I look strange?”

Grandma set the bag on the bench. “Strange is a big word. What makes you ask?”

“The mirror makes me think mean things about myself.”

Grandma’s face grew warm and thoughtful. “Mirrors can show our faces, but they cannot tell us who we are.”

Lina glanced at the gold frame. “But the thoughts sound like they are coming from it.”

“Sometimes a thought can feel like a voice,” Grandma said. “That does not make it true.”

Lina looked at her own face. “How do I know what is true?”

Grandma reached for Lina’s hand. Her fingers were warm, and a little flour dusted one knuckle.

“God made you with care,” she said. “He knows your laugh, your questions, your curls, and your kind heart. He does not make mistakes.”

Lina wanted to hold on to those words. She repeated them inside herself.

God made me with care.

The thought steadied her. Her shoulders lowered. The clock did not sound so loud.

Grandma smiled. “Try walking to the end of the hall while you remember that.”

Lina nodded. She stood beside the mirror and took a slow breath. The floor felt firm beneath her shoes. She could smell cinnamon and warm butter from the kitchen.

“I am Lina,” she said. “God made me with care.”

She took one step.

The teasing thought returned.

Your curls are messy.

Lina stopped.

Grandma did not rush her. She only stood nearby, quiet and steady.

Lina looked at her reflection. Her curls were messy. That part was true. But messy did not mean bad.

“My curls are curly,” Lina said. “God made them that way.”

She took another step.

Your shirt is plain.

“My shirt is green,” Lina answered. “And I like it.”

A third step.

No one will want to play with you.

Lina’s stomach felt tight. She wanted to argue with the mirror, but the mirror had not said anything. The thought had come from inside her.

She turned to Grandma. “What if it comes back?”

“Then you can tell it the truth again,” Grandma said. “You do not have to believe every thought that visits.”

Lina walked to the end of the hall. She had made it past the pictures, past the little table with the vase of daisies, and past the mirror alcove. She had reached the kitchen doorway.

Grandma gave a small clap. “You did it.”

Lina smiled, but the smile did not stay long. The thought popped up again.

You only did it because Grandma was there.

Lina’s eyes stung. She looked down at the floor.

“I thought it was gone,” she whispered.

Grandma came close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Doubt can return. That does not mean you failed.”

Lina leaned against Grandma’s soft sweater. It smelled like soap and cinnamon.

“Can we pray?” Lina asked.

“Of course.”

They sat on the wooden bench beneath the mirror. Lina placed her hands in her lap. The colorful scarves rested beside her like a little rainbow.

“Dear God,” Lina began, “thank You for making me.”

Grandma waited.

“Thank You for my curls, even when they do not stay flat. Thank You for my green shirt. Thank You for my smile.” Lina took a breath. “Please help me remember that I am loved because You made me, not because I look perfect or do everything right.”

“Amen,” Grandma said.

“Amen,” Lina echoed.

For a moment, the hall was peaceful. Sunlight rested on the mirror’s gold frame. A bird chirped outside. From the kitchen came the soft hum of the refrigerator.

Lina stood again. She faced her reflection, though she kept one hand in Grandma’s.

“I am made by God,” she said. “I am loved by God. I can be kind, brave, curious, and growing.”

The words felt like stepping stones across a little stream.

Then the teasing thought popped up once more.

But are you really special?

Lina’s fingers tightened around Grandma’s hand.

She did not run. She did not try to make the mirror disappear. She looked at her reflection and spoke the kind truth prayer again.

“God made me on purpose. God loves me. I do not have to be like anyone else.”

The thought grew quiet, but it did not vanish completely. It waited at the edge of her mind, ready to pop up again.

Grandma squeezed her hand. “We can practice tomorrow, too.”

Lina nodded. She was still unsure, but she was not alone. The cinnamon bread waited in the kitchen, the scarves were folded, and the hallway felt safe again.

Lina looked once more at the girl in the mirror.

She was not perfect, but she was wonderfully made by God and deeply loved.

End of chapter one. 4 more chapters in the full book.