She caught my eye as I turned the corner of the 40% off rectangular rack of pants – size 0, size 2, size 4, size 6, size 8 – on and on they wrapped around as I followed trying to get another glimpse between the hanging rows without her seeing me.
She was petite and short – like me. She had dark brown hair – like me. She was wearing a baseball cap – like me.
But envy still rolled over my body starting at the top of my head, going down over my shoulders, through my arms, into my stomach, and throughout my legs.
The urge to turn and stare was overwhelming. I could barely help myself. I turned one more time just to get one last glimpse, one last mental snapshot to etch in my mind – one last chance to compare.
My mind started racing, “That’s what I want to look like! Look at her arms! Look at her legs! She is so cute! She is so little! Why can’t I be as skinny as she is? Why can’t I look like that?”
She looked perfect . . .
Then it came – the gentle prick to my heart. It was His prick. The prick I know all too often.
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