Clothed in Beauty

“I need something new to wear to church,” my mother sighed as we surveyed her closet. “Everything I own is old and frumpy.” Since Dad’s death over a year ago, my strong, upbeat mom had changed. She didn’t get out much except for her walks in the neighborhood, an occasional golf game and church on Sunday, the highlight of her week.

“Let me be your personal shopper,” I suggested. “I’ll bring clothes to you and you can try them on and keep the ones you like.” She agreed, and I headed to a department store in town, feeling excited. Because Mom and I wore the same size and preferred tailored, classic suits, I knew what she’d like. I checked out with six lovely suits.

At home, the more outfits Mom tried, the more discouraged I became. “Too big!” “Too small!” “Sleeves too short!” “Not made well!” “And Pat, you know I don’t wear yellow!”

But then she tried the navy pants suit with the white blouse and when I saw the beautiful smile on her face, I knew. “Perfect!” she proclaimed. “Now if you can just find me three more, I’ll have a different one for each Sunday of the month.”

Daunting as it was to return the five suits and search for three more, I’d go back as many times as necessary. Anything to see Mom smile again!