Behold, who is that fair lady across the way?

What perfection have my eyes set upon!

Her form, the essence of elegance; her face, more beautiful than the brightest star.

So white. So pure. So lovely.

If only she would glance in my direction.

 

I wonder how she smells; how she might feel.

What I would give to be near her!

To taste the peace of her presence.

To know the safety and warmth of her bosom.

Oh, that she would bless me with her smile.

 

Like a swan she glides amidst the crowds.

See how she captures their attention; her very being scintillating.

How high this magnificent woman! From heaven she has surely fallen!

Here she does not belong. Sadness seeps into my spirit.

How dare I hope for her.

 

What could bring Exquisiteness to this vile place?

Surrounded by muck and grime, hawkers and the impoverished.

Yet, how white her dress remains as the dust swirls about.

What must she think as she beholds the unlovely around her?

May she never look upon me.

 

Yet, what do I observe! This cannot be!

She stoops to embrace those reaching for her.

Into their eyes she looks. No filth does she see.

With tender purpose, she offers herself to each one.

Her soft lips caress their bowed heads.

 

What is this?

What transformation is taking place before my eyes?

What power has this gentle woman?

How can she change what is unclean to clean?

Can this be? Is she looking at me?

 

She glides straight toward me.

I look around. Where can I go? Where can I hide?

Shame overtakes me and I kneel to hide my face.

Fear and trembling as she approaches.

“Forgive me, for I am unpresentable before you.”

 

Her fine fingers lift my chin and I see her face-to-face.

Those penetrating and beautiful eyes dissolve all fear and insecurity.

“I see you.”

What music her words! The song of freedom.

Comfort and hope envelop my fragile form.

 

She draws me to my feet and intimately close.

I feel the warmth of her breath; her lips upon my face.

All weight dispelled, I collapse into her embrace.

Rest.

I am washed.

 

“Fair Lady, Fair Lady, do not leave me,” I cry.

She softly whispers, “I am always available. Call upon me as you need.”

As she begins to move, I cry out again. “Fair Lady, Fair Lady, what be your name?”

She turns to me with a generous smile and mellifluously replies, “Grace.”

I fall to my knees in reverent joy for I have seen and now know the beauty of Lady Grace.