The woman had just turned seventyquite the milestone! To mark the occasion, shed bought some lovely fabric and had a dress made, elegant and refined. Shed even splurged online on a pair of expensive silver earrings. When she put it all on and looked in the mirror, she couldnt help but grinshe looked ten years younger.
“Well, you cant go without a little refresh now and then,” she thought. “Nothing lifts the spirits like something new.”
Then she got to work in the kitchen, whipping up a feast for her guestsher sisters were coming, and her brother was bringing their elderly mother, who was nearly ninety-five. The table glittered with the good china, and the food smelled divine. When everyone arrived, the old mother was given the seat of honour, though shed likely retreat to the next room for a lie-down when she tired.
The birthday girl slipped into her new dress, fastened her earrings, and made her entrance. The guests gaspedexactly the reaction shed hoped for. It was lovely to be admired. They raised their glasses for the first toast, then the second, when suddenly one sister piped up:
“Honestly, Im baffled. Spending all that on a dress at seventy! And those earringsmustve cost a fortune. Whats the point? You never go anywhere! No husband to impress, no job, not even the theatre. Youve got cupboards full of nice old dresseswear those out first.”
The others nodded, chiming in about their own overstuffed wardrobes and how theyd never get through half of it.
All at once, the dress seemed to tighten, the earrings grew heavy, dragging at her lobes, and her heart sank. “Seventy is seventy,” she thought bitterly. “Lifes passed me by, and here I am, a dressed-up old fool.” Her smile vanished, her face turning stony. She didnt want to talk, didnt want to eatsuddenly, the party felt like a chore. The guests, sensing the shift, fell quiet.
Then her mother, silent until now, spoke.
“My mother lived nearly a hundred, and so did my father. Long life runs in the family. When Mum turned ninety, Dad went to the market and came back with a crimson shawl. At dinner, he pulled it from his pocket and draped it over her shoulders. She sat there, glowing, running her fingers over the new silk like shed shed twenty years. The point isits the heart that matters. We dont live for things; things are meant to bring us joy. Love, kindnessthats what makes us happy.”
She paused, then added pointedly, “Have you all forgotten that?”
Turning to the sister whod made the sharp remark, she said, “And youmind that spiteful tongue of yours. Words cost nothing to keep in.” Then she rose and shuffled off for a nap, worn out.
The table stayed sombre. The offending sister muttered an apology, but the mood didnt lift. The conversation limped along, jokes falling flat, laughter forced. The air was thick with the lingering sting of careless words.
Thensalvation! Her favourite niece burst in with her husband, all cheer and hugs. The husband dropped to one knee, presenting a bouquet of roses, and crooned a line from an old love song. The niece opened a little boxinside, a string of river pearls.
“Where on earth did you find these?” everyone marvelled.
The niece clasped them around her aunts neck, dragged her to the mirror, and hugged her tight, clapping with delight. The room came alive againglasses clinked, laughter bubbled, and just like that, the poison evaporated.
The birthday lady sat there, pearls gleaming, dress perfect, thinking, “Seventy? Pah! Plenty of life leftjust you watch.”
And so she didradiant, elegant, and very, very happy.
