They called her Beauty,
And yet at first glance , she was anything but.
Scars marred the perfection of her skin,
Age sat in the wrinkles that crisscrossed all over her face.
They called her Beauty.
And she was exceptionally beautiful.
The scars on her skin sang songs of survival.
The wrinkles and laugh lines mapped a story,
That encompassed several decades…
“Grandma,” they cried out.
And she smiled.