Proof The Bible Is True

My mother was forever doing me “favors.” One Sunday morning in June 1959 my mother walked into my room. “Surprise!” she said, proudly holding up a yellow dress with black and white stripes. “I made it just for you. What do you think?”

 

I bit my tongue. How could I tell Mom it was the most hideous dress I had ever seen? The too-intense colors, the gaudy rhinestone buttons, the shiny patent-leather belt, the hopelessly out-of-style billowy skirt.

 

“It’s perfect for church,” my mother continued blithely. “I wish someone had made a dress like this for me.”

 

Too bad you can’t wear it, I thought. But I knew Mom had spent a lot of time on the dress. Only the world’s most ungrateful daughter would refuse.

 

Reluctantly I put it on.

 

Read More: World’s Worst Dress – Guideposts