Six years ago, my oldest child -a daughter -was blessed. She was blessed in the same dress that I was blessed in -the same dress my mother was blessed in.
As I held her all white-clad (well, more like ivory-clad since white dresses purchased in 1959 tend to fade by 2007) in my arms I remember feeling, 'I should be touched by this moment...' so I reached down inside myself and searched for any kind of sentimental or touched sort of feelings... and all I could think about was whether or not my make-up or hair looked good, whether there was enough food for the luncheon, whether everyone had been invited.
My grandmother took one look at the dress she'd blessed her own first born in almost 50 years prior and teared up.
"You have no idea what it means to me to see that dress on your baby," she said.
I nodded, again thinking, 'Shouldn't I be feeling something?'
Yesterday, I took the same beautiful, long ivory dress off it's hanger and put it on my freshly-bathed baby. My baby and I were alone in my bedroom, outside my door my house was full of out-of-town family -they were getting dressed, snacking, visiting, looking for a lost wedding ring, calming crying children...
But inside my bedroom, everything was quiet.
Everything was calm.
I scooped my baby up and held her close: her blue eyes locked with my blue eyes and I could SEE her...
I could see my sister -not my baby, my SISTER.
And I could see my mother and her sisters (who were blessed in the same dress) and my actual sister (who wore the dress as well) and my daughter -and one word touched my soul so deeply that tears sprang to my eyes:
How sacred women are. How reverenced we are in the eyes of our Father in Heaven.
We are his daughters -forever clad in white in his eyes.
I am so grateful I can FEEL that. I couldn't feel that before, but I do now.
It's a miracle, and she's a miracle: