Everyone, everywhere, every time, said she was beautiful.
No one, nowhere, never, had said she was clever, or caring or brave without saying she was beautiful.
They had not cared that she could speak German and English as well as Cat. They had not noticed that her favourite pastime was taking her sister on walks through the green spaces in Paris. They had not deemed it fit to comment on how much she liked to explore, and was not afraid of the big dogs.
These things did not matter, for she was beautiful.
At first, when she was little, she had enjoyed the attention. She had basked in the glory of knowing the extent of the gift her grandmother had given her. She brushed her silvery hair a hundred times every evening. She washed her face thoroughly in boiling water every morning. She filed and polished her nails once a week.
Then all of a sudden, it got boring.
She no longer wanted to be a beauty. She wanted to be noticed for different reasons. She wanted to be seen for her brains, for her heart, for her soul. When she began school, she studied harder than anyone . No one could beat her as she spoke quick incantations to make spoons dance, to change mice from grey to purest white, or to brew a potion for peace.
And so, it was noted, she was intelligent.
When her father was seriously injured and was taken immediately to the hospital, it was her, and not her mother, who was squeamish, that visited him everyday with bunches of fresh flowers during that sweltering French summer.
And so, her elders realised, that she was loving.
When she had seen a small boy taken from his mother, the twelve year old had run after the kidnappers all the way down the Right Bank and jumped on one of their backs while a street hawker held the other one and the boy was reunited with his mother.
And so, they decided, she was courageous.
But above all, she was gorgeous, those well meaning old ladies had said, those godmothers and honorary aunts, and everyone had nodded in agreement. Yes, she would go far with a pretty face like that. She would not need magic to charm them all.
The girl was beautiful, and it was the most wonderful thing that could have happened to her. That was what they said.
What she heard was that she was beautiful, and nothing she could do would change that.
So resigned, she stopped caring. About everything. She did not go back to school. She did not reply to her sister's questions. She did not run after thieves. She did not brush her hair. She simply existed, and stopped all that made existence worthy.
Countless doctors had examined her and said time and love was what she needed.
So they all came back, those well meaning people. And they told her, she was clever. Caring. Brave. And beautiful.
And every time they came she lost all progress to a normal life that she had made.
In the end, the principal of the school had come. She had promised the visit would bring the girl back to normal. Madame, as she was called, settled her enormous bulk on a sofa and stared at her missing pupil. And she had asked, who cared? Who cared about how people looked? Madame herself, was not beautiful, but she was respected in the highest of places. What mattered was your composition, and your confidence. What mattered was not what people thought of you, but what you thought of yourself.
She had lifted the girl's chin and said Do you yourself think you are beautiful?
The girl had answered yes.
But you also think, Madame continued, that you are clever, and brave and loving.
The girl paused and answered yes.
Then come back to school, Madame had said. Come back to your life. Come back and say to your family, here I am. I am beautiful, but also I am intelligent, and caring and full of courage. Come back and show those who have hurt you that you will be hurt no longer. Come back and prove you are beautiful on the outside, but on the inside too.
And to the surprise of many, when the giant woman left, the girl had stood up, and was rummaging in bags for a hairbrush, a book, a present to give to her sister.
She had lived from then on, in full confidence of herself, and of others. She learnt to speak her mind, but also to listen to what others refrained from saying. She spoke without hesitance in any language it happened to be. She threw herself into everything she did. And for it, she was loved beyond her comprehension.