The Magic is in Knowing Who You Are

I slipped off my shoes, my favorite shoes. I've worn them so much there are holes all the way through the insoles. I wriggled out of my cute dress, the one I got for 14.99 on sale - what a bargain! I hung up the slip I was wearing, the slip that was pink now instead of white because of that day I wore it with a red dress. I looked at my clothes hanging in the locker, loaded with reminders of everyday life.

Then I pulled on stretchy white knee highs and slid into a clean white slip that went to my ankles and a simple, flowing white dress. I've worn this dress more times than any other I own. I wore it the day I got married. I wore it when I was pregnant (I especially loved wearing it then). I've worn it on special occasions full of joy and on days when tears splattered onto the lap and sleeves of my dress until there were no more tears left to cry. This dress, filled with memories, doesn't hold a trace of everyday life.

Two sets of clothes. Two separate purposes. Today I got three compliments on my bargain dress. No one noticed my white dress. In my bargain dress I felt "cute". In my white dress I felt beautiful and divine and loved. When I wear my white dress my aches are comforted, my joys are heightened, my peace is beyond understanding.

It isn't the dress that does these things, it is the place and the purpose that I wear the dress for. Still, I can't help but make an association between the dress and the feelings. When I get done I wish I didn't have to put it away, but I won't let this dress mingle with ordinary life. I fold it up neatly and set it aside to wait for me until another day. Then I open my locker and put my holey shoes back on.

I never wanted to be Cinderella. I prefer a stronger image of femininity. But I realized that today I was like Cinderella in a good way. I went to the temple today. I went to meet The Prince. I couldn't go in my old rags. I had to change into the most beautiful dress of all. It was a very simple dress, but it was meant for a queen. That dress has made all the difference because it helped me understand my true worth. When I left the Palace I was wearing my old clothes, and no one who saw me knew who I really was. Only - a little of the glory stays with me, like Cinderella, who kept one glass slipper even though everything else turned back into rags. She was never the same again.