Recently, my lovely wife decided to turn her love for fashion into a career. She started looking for jobs in retail, thinking it would be a perfect match for her interests.
One afternoon, she came home upset and told me what had happened. Emma explained that earlier that day, she had gone to the shopping center.
While walking around, she noticed a popular lingerie store with a “Now Hiring” sign in the window.
She shared how her excitement quickly faded when she approached the sales assistant to ask about the job.
The rude woman didn’t even look at my wife until she was standing right in front of her. Despite feeling a bit discouraged, Emma still asked about the application process with enthusiasm. Instead of answering kindly, the assistant gave her a nasty look and said:
When Emma got home, she was in tears, heartbroken by the cruel remark. I had never seen her so devastated before, and it shattered me to see her like that.
Over the next few days, I came up with a plan. I called my friend Mike, who works in the fashion industry, and told him what had happened. Mike was eager to help.
“That’s unbelievable,” Mike said on the phone. “I’ll help you out. Let’s give her a taste of her own medicine.” A few days later, I got ready and went back to the lingerie store with Emma’s help.
I made sure the same sales assistant was working that day. I started browsing the aisles, waiting for the right moment. When the store was quiet, I approached the assistant with a friendly smile.
“Hello, I’m looking for something special for my wife. Can you help me?” I asked. Her attitude changed immediately when she saw a potential sale. She became very helpful and started showing me different items.
“Of course, sir! We have a fantastic selection. What’s the occasion?” she asked sweetly. “Just a surprise for my wife. I want to get her something really special,” I replied, acting thoughtful.
How about this piece? It’s one of our bestsellers,” she suggested, holding up a delicate lace set. “Do you think this would look good on her?” I asked, examining the lingerie. “Oh, definitely! It’s one of our top items. She’ll love it,” she assured me.
“Can you show me a few more options? I want to make sure I get the perfect one,” I said, keeping her engaged. As she showed me more pieces, I made small talk to keep her interested. “How long have you worked here?” I asked.
“About six months,” she replied. “It’s a great job if you have the right look for it.” I nodded, pretending to be interested. “Do they hire often?”
“Only when they really need someone. They’re picky about who they hire,” she said with a touch of pride.
I wrapped my arms around her, trying to comfort her. “My love, don’t listen to her. You’re beautiful and talented, and you’re worth so much more than her words,” I told her softly. “But why would she say that?” Emma sobbed. “I just wanted to apply for a job. I didn’t deserve that.”
“She’s small-minded, my angel,” I said, trying to console her. Seeing her so sad made me FURIOUS! No one should ever treat my wife like that and think they can get away with it!
My granddaughter was constantly mocked by her classmates because of her braces.
The sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. I sat at the table, sipping my tea, when the doorbell chimed. A wave of excitement washed over me. It was Lizzie, my granddaughter, a whirlwind of energy and sunshine.
But today, her smile seemed a little forced, her eyes downcast. “Hi Grandma,” she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.
My heart sank. I knew something was wrong. Lizzie, usually a chatterbox, was unusually quiet. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, pulling her onto my lap.
She shrugged, her shoulders drooping. “Nothing.”
“Come on, darling,” I coaxed. “You can tell me anything.”
After a long pause, she finally admitted, “The kids at school are teasing me again.”
My blood ran cold. “Teasing you about what?”
Lizzie looked down at her feet, her voice barely audible. “My braces… and now my glasses.”
My heart ached. I remembered the cruel taunts I had endured as a child, the feeling of being different, of not fitting in. I couldn’t bear to see my granddaughter go through the same thing.
“Lizzie,” I said, my voice firm, “those kids are just mean. They’re jealous. You are beautiful, inside and out, with or without braces or glasses.”
She looked at me doubtfully. “But everyone else is wearing contacts.”
A mischievous glint entered my eye. “Really? Well, then I guess I need to get some contacts too!”
Lizzie’s eyes widened. “But Grandma, you don’t need glasses!”
I chuckled. “Oh, but I do, darling. I’ve been needing glasses for a while now, but I’ve been too stubborn to admit it.”
And with that, I went to my room and emerged a few minutes later, sporting a pair of stylish, oversized glasses. Lizzie stared at me, her mouth agape.
“Grandma!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “We look like twins!”
She threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “You’re the best grandma ever. I love you!”
My heart melted. I had never expected this reaction. I had simply wanted to comfort her, to show her that she wasn’t alone. But seeing her smile, her eyes shining with admiration, filled me with a joy I hadn’t felt in years.
From that day on, Lizzie embraced her glasses. She even started experimenting with different frames, choosing colors and styles that expressed her individuality. The teasing continued, of course, but it no longer had the power to dim her light.
And I, her unlikely accomplice, watched with pride as she blossomed into a confident, beautiful young woman, her glasses becoming a part of her unique identity. I had learned a valuable lesson that day: sometimes, the best way to combat negativity is with a little bit of humor and a whole lot of love.
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