The bright yellow glow was breathtaking, yet so unexpected that Mirabel had to blink a few times to make sure what she was witnessing was actually there.
A part of her felt like it couldn't be, not after all this time of never having a gift to call her own. A gift as special and noticeable as the rest of the Madrigal's. So she quickly glanced behind her to see the amazed and shocked looks of her family which told her she wasn't imagining things. That when she stuck her special door handle into the door, the one made especially for her by everyone who loved her, a light appeared exactly as the one that would appear when one received their miracle in the first place, only this time the door wasn't disappearing before her eyes, but revealing an image on the front exactly like it should have done 10 years ago.
When that glowing light finally returned from restoring the casita as it once was, finally reaching the bottom, a picture of Mirabel standing front and center with the rest of the family on the door, she found she couldn't look away. How was this even possible?
Mirabel came to terms years ago that she would never get the door ceremony she wished she could have, where everyone was celebrating her new gift by throwing a special party for her in her new room. But here she was, reaching out and gently placing a hand on the wooden door, because this was her door ceremony. She never got one all those years ago because it wasn't meant to happen when it was supposed to, but rather at a time where peace and gratitude had returned to the household.
Mirabel can feel it, the moment the light completely fades and their casita is once more—standing in its glory, more beautiful than it ever was in the past. It's a feeling she's never experienced before, not really, but it's the only explanation as casita waves at her and she waves back. "¡Hola! casita," she says, giving the house a grin as well, because she had missed it. Missed talking to it when she had no one else to talk to. Missed as it helped her with her daily routine, or when it lectured her or warned her about being late or misbehaving as a child.
It was magic that filled the air, coming off the house in waves, and for a moment Mirabel wonders if her family can feel it too. If they have their gifts back as well. She doesn't have time to look back or ponder, because casita is suddenly moving her towards it, giving her a boost up the stairs, and carrying her until she's inside and facing the family. It makes her laugh, because the playful energy is exactly what the house embodies. It knew her, and she knew it.
And then it dawns on her, a moment of clarity she's never had before because the fog was too thick to see through. Mirabel was always trying to prove herself worthy because she thought she wasn't as special as the rest of her family. She worked harder, tried to run as fast as the rest of her siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles because she wanted to feel like she belonged and was a part of something. She spent so much time trying to be something she thought she always should have been, when in reality she had a gift all along.
The night her door disappeared was one of the worst days of her life, but casita was there to comfort her after everyone had gone their separate ways from a lot of arguing and worrying. It was almost as if she could understand the house better in the weeks that followed after her ceremony because she had no gift to occupy her, though she didn't realize she was given a gift all along.
Her door ceremony was now, because she wasn't meant to have a room in the house. Not when the whole house is her room.
Mirabel can finally see that keeping track of everything going on in the house was her responsibility, keeping the family together is her gift.
Maybe that's why the miracle died, because it could feel the rift happening between the family. It tried to warn Mirabel with the cracks. She was just too focused on saving the family and proving herself that she didn't realize the answer was in front of her the whole time. The casita relied on her in a way she didn't know until this moment, because the minute she called Abuela out and started that argument, seemingly giving the house the final blow it needed, did it finally crumble down to the ground exactly as tío Bruno predicted before he fled into hiding.
The house fell to ruins when she started what felt like the biggest rift of all. But in the end it needed to be done. That's what the vision was trying to tell them all this time. In order for the miracle to stand bright and strong, everything had to be torn down. They had to start anew—a clean slate. Abuela recognized that she had been way too hard on the family, but especially Mirabel because she was afraid of losing everything. In return, Mirabel realized the struggles her grandmother went through to build the foundation of family she has today. Those kinds of hardships she should have never had to face in the first place, but kept on moving forward for the sake of her three children.
It was in that moment alone they saw each other for what felt like the first time ever, and once they embraced everything became whole. There were no longer cracks in the family. All Mirabel had to do was show her grandmother that it's okay if not everything was perfect. That the casita falling apart wasn't the end of everything she's ever worked for, but just another beginning to be thankful for. Afterall they all have each other, and in the end that's what really counts. Not a magical house that can talk or some candle that grants magical powers. The miracle will always be a blessing of course, but Maribel was living proof it wasn't needed to live a fulfilling life.
As she looks out to her family, adorning faces who couldn't be prouder of her, she can't help but think back to the talk she had with her mom. Mirabel never really saw herself as special, but her mother always has. She reminded her so many times, but all Mirabel could do was roll her eyes and wave her off thinking she knew the truth.
And she does.
Mirabel can finally see herself. Her mom was right all along, she is special. She's as special as everyone in the Madrigal family or anyone in town for that matter. It's not the magic that makes you special, it took a while for her to realize it. What makes her special is who she is as a person—unique and different, not a single person exactly like her.
"Come on, get in here!" It feels amazing to be able to wave her family into their home, and casita wastes no time in pulling each member inside, followed closely by the townsfolk.
It's been a crazy few days, but Mirabel wouldn't change anything. The Madrigals are complete once more, and for the first time in her entire life, Mirabel gives a true smile for the camera, actually feeling like part of the picture.
