My daughter wanted a designer prom dress that I couldn’t afford and rejected the dress I made for her, calling me useless.
I love my daughter and wanted the best for her.
I wanted her to have a better life, a better start than I had, and I believe I succeeded, even if she probably won’t agree with me.
My husband and I divorced when she was nine years old.
He left me for a rich older woman, so I raised my Hannah alone.
My ex-husband picks her up every weekend and brings her into a luxurious world that I can’t provide for her.
It’s hard to compete with that, and honestly, I don’t even try.
The conflict escalated in her last year of high school when she told me she wanted a certain prom dress from a famous designer – something that cost three times my modest salary.
Of course, I said no.
I explained to her that we couldn’t afford it, but I promised her that I would make her an equally beautiful dress, a unique one that no one else would have.
She frowned and muttered that maybe she should stay with her father and Rita (his new wife).
The next day I came home with a few fabric swatches and showed them to Hannah.
Her best friend Amy was there and she really liked the fabrics and ideas I showed her.
But my daughter wasn’t impressed.
‘It’s going to be disgusting, Mum!’ – she screamed and threw the drawings on the floor.
‘It’s stupid!’
‘Honey,’ I said, “I based it on a dress worn by Audrey Hepburn, it’s retro and elegant! Retro is cool, right?”
Amy nodded vigorously, but Hannah shouted: ‘Retro is cool, but this is just HORRIBLE!’
She ran out and I could hear her sobbing while talking to her dad.
Amy gave me a hug before she left.
She’s a sweet girl and is worried after her mum died.
She whispered to me, ‘Don’t worry, Hannah will still change her mind!’
And she did change her mind, just a little.
She let me take her measurements for the dress and even wore it for the first time, not too perturbed.
Unfortunately, her concession didn’t last long.
A week later she came home and tossed me an advertising booklet.
I picked it up and read it: it announced the prom, the date and theme of the event.
At the bottom, in bold letters, it said, ‘Prize for the most original prom dress!’
‘Read it!’ – she shouted.
‘Best original prom dress!’
“Hannah, yours is going to be completely original!
No one will have one like yours…” – I pointed out.
‘Original doesn’t mean cheesy and homemade,’ she shouted.
“I’m going to call Daddy and HE’s going to buy me a decent prom dress.
He’s not a worthless loser like YOU!”
I admit, I sat down at the kitchen table and cried.
I had put my heart into that dress and now it would never be worn.
I was still crying when Hannah ran out of the house and announced that she was going shopping with Daddy.
I looked at the light blue satin dress I’d made, with hundreds of beads of different sizes sparkling on the wide skirt, the narrow bodice and heart-shaped neckline.
It was so beautiful.
I had never worn anything so beautiful.
Three hours later Hannah returned, laden with several large bags from expensive boutiques.
Solemnly she smiled at me:
‘I found the IDEAL dress,’ she said, ‘With no thanks to you!’
What you dismiss as useless can easily be the greatest treasure for someone else.
A little later Amy came in and said hello to me before running up the stairs to Hannah’s “perfect dress”.
I sighed and looked at the blue dress.
‘I’ll finish it,’ I said to myself, ‘even if she doesn’t want it.’
So I sat down with the dress in my lap, glittering silver and blue, and began to stitch it carefully with the smallest of stitches.
I had just begun when Amy came down the stairs.
‘Oh,’ she ahhed, ‘Is that the dress you made?’
I smiled and spread it out so Amy could see it.
‘Yeah, what do you think?’ – I asked.
Amy stepped closer and touched the gathers studded with beads.
‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ she whispered, ‘I wish I could…’
She shook her head, and tears ran down her cheeks.
‘Amy,’ I said, ‘What happened?’
Amy whispered: ‘I wish my mum would make me a dress like that.’
‘Amy, I would be proud if you wore that dress,’ I told her, and suddenly she hugged me, crying.
Amy put the dress on, and it sat on her like a submissive.
‘All you need are shoes,’ I said, ‘And you’ll look like a dream!’
On prom night, Hannah came down the stairs in an elegant red velvet dress that I thought was too revealing and inappropriate for her skin tone.
She wore an expensive pair of very high heels and a sparkling red handbag.
She looked beautiful, but the dress was too ‘grown up’ for her, although I didn’t tell her that.
I said she looked adorable and she coldly replied, ‘No thanks to you!’
A few minutes later Amy and her companion came in, and with them Hannah’s companion.
Amy was a heavenly vision and glowed with happiness.
‘Are you going to wear THIS?’ – Hannah asked scornfully, ‘SERIOUSLY?’
Amy smiled happily.
‘Yes, and I love it!’
‘You’re a real nerd sometimes, Amy Loften!’ – Hannah shouted, and after a few pictures they left.
I turned on the TV and watched my favourite programme, then had dinner.
I kept thinking about Hannah and hoping she would have a magical evening to remember.
I was lying in bed reading when at about midnight I heard the front door open.
A little while later, someone knocked on my door.
‘Come in!’ – I shouted, and Hannah walked in.
She had clearly been crying and her carefully applied make-up was smeared across her cheeks.
She was wearing sparkling shoes with thin straps.
‘Mummy,’ she whispered, ‘may I speak to you?’
“Of course, darling! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” – I asked, concerned.
Hannah quickly walked over to the bed and clung into my arms. She started to cry.
“Oh mum, it was HORRIBLE!
There were two other girls wearing the same dress as me and it was so embarrassing! And the price…”
Hannah sobbed in a way I could barely understand her.
‘Amy won with YOUR dress, and everyone just started freaking out, and I was so DONE, Mum, and I’m so sorry…’
‘It’s okay, honey,’ I said, and like I used to when she was little and scratching her knees, rocking my girl in my arms, ‘It’ll get better.’
‘But I was so awful to you, Mummy… I’m so sorry… I was an idiot, wasn’t I?’ – She asked.
I smiled.
‘A little… But how about you wash up now while I make us some hot chocolate, and then you tell me all the good times from prom?’
Hannah sobbed.
“Okay… Can I have extra marshmallows? And mum?
Do you think I can stay at your place tonight?”
With a smile on my face, I went downstairs to make hot chocolate.
Hannah had learned an important lesson, but she was my favourite little girl again.
What can we learn from this story?
The price of an item doesn’t always reflect its true value.
Value and significance are two completely different things.
What you dismiss as worthless can easily be the greatest treasure for someone else.
Share this story with your friends. It may brighten their day and inspire them.
