A Father's Kiss - by Nancy Charles

She was sixteen — full of laughter, beauty, and the kind of confidence that only comes from believing your reflection holds your worth.Until one day, everything changed. The sound of screeching tires. The blur of panic. The cold touch of gravel against skin.In that moment, lying broken on the road, she whispered a trembling prayer —“Dear God, not my face, please...” Because like so many teenage girls, she believed her face was her identityHer value was in what people praised her forher beauty was what made her loved.And the one who always reminded her of that love was her father.He called her “My lady”, saying, “No father has ever loved a daughter more than I love you.”But somewhere deep inside, she thought — He loves me for my pretty face, because I’m beautiful. After the accident, the hospital became her new world — sterile lights, white walls, and a mirror no one would hand her.When she begged to see her reflection, desperate for a mirror to see what she lost, her father said no. Firmly. Hurt and angry, she hissed, “You don’t love me. Not anymore.”She felt now that she wasn't as pretty as before, now that her face is all bruised up, her father couldn't possibly love her like before, that pretty face he used to adore, that face he would look at and be so proud to be her father...it was all gone. Hearing this from his daughter, his silence that day was heavy — the kind of silence that holds back tears.He couldn’t explain yet, but he knew words wouldn’t fix what only love could prove. The next day, she finally got hold of a mirror.And nothing could prepare her for what she saw.Her face — once soft and radiant — was now swollen, bruised, and raw.Worse than she had imagined it.She didn’t recognize herself. When her father walked in and saw the mirror trembling in her hands, he gently took it away and said, “This doesn’t change anything that matters. No one who truly loves you will love you less.”He hesitated, "Yesterday you were ugly—not because of your skin, but because you behaved ugly. But I'm here today, and I'll be here tomorrow. Because fathers don't stop loving their children, no matter what life takes. So I won't stop loving you either" But she couldn’t believe him.It had to be all words, spoken at the right time, polite lies... With tears, she begged for him to look into her eyes, and say he loves herShe needed to be sure his words were trueBut instead, he leaned forward…Eyes open with tears and compassion, he pressed a gentle kiss on her wounded and swollen lips. That was the kiss that tucked her to bed every night of her young lifeThe kiss that brought warmth each morning... That was love.Not polished, not pretty, not perfect.But pure. The kind that sees beyond what eyes can. Years passed. Her scars healed, and beauty returned.But what stayed forever was that moment — that kiss.Because that was the day she learned what love really looks like —a love that doesn’t flinch at brokenness, a love that stays when everything beautiful fades. True love doesn’t need perfection to exist — it needs presence.It’s what remains when the mirror shatters, and the heart still whispers, “You are loved.”

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