Dear Girlfriends,

I'm not sure how we qualified for this apartment; Steve and I are neither young enough nor pretty enough to live in our building. The fire alarm went off the other night and we all gathered downstairs in the lobby, spilling out into the circle drive. Never in my life have I seen  such a concentration of so many physically gorgeous men and women (except in Newport Beach, CA)!  Dressed to the nines in designer duds, they should be living inside the pages of Vogue. But they're not all beautiful people.

My perception of beautiful people changed drastically after our move.

While I'm an ardent believer of "pretty is as pretty does", I guess I hadn't seen it played out with such contrast until we moved downtown. Like many young people in our society today, my neighbors rarely say please, thank you, or pardon me. They drop their candy wrappers in the hall; they leave their cups by the pool; and, oblivious to those around them, they stand and stall, expecting others to move around them. Contrast these well-heeled, well-educated young adults with our city's homeless.

Out of the 700 people we serve during lunch, I estimate that only a handful have not repeatedly said thank you and please, and then extended another note of appreciation for our volunteer service. As I watch nearly a quarter of them bow their heads to say their own personal grace as they give thanks for the tuna sandwich sitting before them, I am as star-struck by these beautiful homeless people as I am dumbfounded by our so-called beautiful society.

How do we teach gratitude when we have had so much?

How do we teach grace when we rarely extend it ourselves?

How do we teach the power of an apology when we're never wrong? And,

How do we teach the concept of beauty when, in realty, we have forgotten what it looks like?

I think about all the beautiful people I have encountered over the past eight weeks. What do I remember about the six-foot-tall beauty on the elevator? That she was carrying a Stanley Korshak bag with three pairs of designer shoes (THREE!) and never looked up from her BlackBerry. I think she might have been blonde - but other than that, I can't tell you a thing about her.

On the other hand, I remember fondly the frail little 70-something woman who dined with us two months ago at The Bridge. She wore a hand-me down suit and nylons, and I remember that she smelled like rose water. I remember that she was drop-dead gorgeous as she bowed her head to pray. And that later, she winked at me when she thanked me sweetly for pouring her another glass of water - all with the voice of an angel and the grace of Jackie O.

When you think of the beautiful people you've encountered over the past few weeks - what do you remember? And what do you think others remember about you?

This past Sunday, as I reached for a gentleman's glass, I asked him, "How are you, today?" It was 26 degrees outside, he wore a thin coat, and his worldly belongings sat in a grocery bag at his feet, but he answered me with a smile the size of Texas and the enthusiasm of a cheerleader, "Ma'am, I'm blessed."

As we celebrate this Holy season, may others be blessed by your beauty that resonates from your grace and gratitude. And throughout the New Year may God bless us all with the gorgeous ones to remind us that pretty is as pretty does.

Heading to the shelter for my beauty tips,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on December 22, 2008 8:39 PM  |  Category: A City View

Thank you for this 'beautiful' article, Ellen! As a child, my mother told me 'You have to suffer to be beautiful', and my grandmother told me 'Beauty knows no pain.' No wonder women like me grow up thinking it's our outer beauty that really matters. Thankfully, my mother also taught me the importance of good manners, showing respect to your elders and being thankful for all of God's blessings. And, as I have grown and matured, I now realize it's a person's inner beauty that is most important. So, maybe the adage 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,' was coined by someone like yourself, Ellen, who has learned that 'suffering' and 'pain' can sometimes result in true beauty - but not the kind of suffering and pain to which my mother and grandmother were referring.

Posted by Dawn Mellon | December 23, 2008 8:09 AM

Ellen, Since my mother died last year the holidays have been a time of deep depression for me and this year has been no different. I really struggled with Christmas shopping and finding the perfect gift for everyone on my list making sure that I didn't forget anyone. Fighting the traffic and the crowds I've tried really hard to get into the spirit but just feel dead inside. As each day draws me closer to Christmas I feel like another little piece of me dies.

I have traveled to Honduras and Mexico on Mission trips and I see how these people live with very little but yet are so thankful for all that they have. Most will share what little they have with other family members and their neighbors. We have made Christmas so complicated that we've forgotten the real meaning of the Holiday.

If we would all take a moment to think about all we have here in America compared to what these people have - the poorest here is considered rich. My neighbor is always telling me if you have two pairs of shoes and you see someone barefoot you have one pair too many.

This Christmas let us open our hearts to those around us who really need and step outside our boxes and give out of love for our brother's and sister's in Christ. That's what Christmas is all about.

Thank you for reminding me of the real meaning of life and Christmas.

Posted by Tammy Whittington | December 23, 2008 3:06 PM

Ellen---true to form you have hit the nail on the head! We are so caught up in what we think are the important things and what we consider beautiful and the perfect life that we forgot what "real" life is really about.

Thank you for reminding us all what true beauty and what is important in our "real" life. Beauty is what is within each of us not what shows on the outside.

Merry Christmas and may you and your family be blessed in 2009.

Love and miss you in the hood,

connie hawes

Posted by connie hwes | December 23, 2008 7:03 PM

Ellen,

Thank you once again for plucking at my heartstrings. Your life experiences enrich us all. You are so wonderful to take the time to share them.

Posted by leslie | December 24, 2008 5:22 PM

Ellen. All through the year you give me so much
to think about. Today you really touched my heart. Thank you for taking the time to share your life experiences. You are a blessing in disguise. Peace be with you. Joyce R. Johnson
Dallas, Tx. December 24, 2008

Posted by Joyce R. Johnson | December 24, 2008 9:20 PM

Ellen ~ Thank you for using your talents to bring us a little sunshine. Stan & I still very much enjoy your thoughtful ways & words.

God Bless you always

Posted by Michelle Bassett | December 26, 2008 9:12 PM

I am part of a group of women who work with women who are incarcerated at Dallas County Jail and Dawson State Jail (see www.resolana.info). Dressed in baggy prison garb, with no makeup and hair tied back with elastic thread pulled from their socks, these inmates are some of the most marginalized women in our culture. Their histories of addiction, violence and poverty have taught them that they are neither valuable nor beautiful. Yet they are.

Most of us, everything but the deeply real must be stripped away before the intrinsic presence of value and beauty can be recognized.

Posted by Bette Buschow | December 27, 2008 4:08 PM

Ellen,
Gretchen told me of your site today. All I can say is WOW! Your intelligence and spirit came through on our one phone call...but I realize now it was only scratching the surface. You are an amazing woman.
This is so beautiful and right on!

Best to you - Lisa Robb

Posted by Lisa Robb | April 7, 2009 4:21 PM