It was always a busy time on the Clinique counter before Christmas, the assistants happily advising on the latest new looks, magical creams and
beautifully gift-wrapping presents for their customers' loved ones. On one such busy day, a present was sent through my sister Denise, from the heavens to a grief stricken soul.

It was a Saturday, when a thoughful daughter brought her Mother to the Clinique counter for some help. The problem was that her husband had died earlier that year and grief was etched into her face. With a family function looming that evening, the lady's daughter felt she required some special help; a miracle, the lady thought to herself, as she smiled weakly at her daughter. The last thing she wanted was to attend such a function without her beloved partner. If she let go of her grief, she felt she would lose everything they had ever had together, so she was holding on tightly to her memories.

Her daughter, however, was on a mission from God. Not to be deterred, she gently encouraged her Mother to try some make-up. My sister, not realising she was being guided from above, found herself suggesting that the lady returned
later in the day for a make-over, forgetting it was actually out of the question on a Saturday, especially at such a busy time of year. Of course she would, her daughter gailey replied, that would be wonderful. Oh dear, thought Denise, trying not to look too disappointed; she suggested four o'clock.

Later that day, just returning from her coffee break in time for the appointment, Denise quickly sprayed some perfume. It was one that she had never tried before; the bottle seemed to be in her hand, spraying itself before she realised what she had done. Her lady duly arrived back with her daughter and the transformation began. That perfume you are wearing is so lovely, the lady commented several times and relaxed for the first time in months; she was even starting to enjoy the pampering.

After a five star make-over, Denise looked at her Lady and couldn't help thinking something was missing. How about some of that perfume I'm wearing? she enquired. Oh yes please, that would be lovely, what's it called? 'Paul Smith' replied Denise as she walked off to get it. Returning with the perfume in hand, she looked at her lady's face, a smile was shining through her eyes. Nothing was missing now, she knew her beloved was determined to let his wife know she wouldn't be going alone. His name was Paul Smith!

from Carolyn Bielby

Thank you, Carolyn - I loved hearing this story. If anybody else has got a special story to share, please post it on light web for us all to read.



     Listing # 9320