SHE stood alone by the street corner, her short hair pulled down to shield what it could of her face, a sad look in her weary eyes. She wore a cheap dress, being a poor girl, but it accentuated her slim body and smooth skin. Her simple looks could have been a beautiful picture, except there was a flaw that caused her to stand hidden in the shadows while the other girls laughed and chatted with their boyfriends in the outdoor country bar. No one wanted to be her friend because of her perceived ugliness. “Why was I born with this ugly look?” she often wondered, “Is it a curse, a sin?” She couldn’t say, not at the beginning as a child nor now as a young girl. She had lived with the hope that one day when she woke up and looked in the mirror, the ugliness would be gone. The unkind taunts followed her everywhere, for no one stopped to think it could be hurting her. In the eyes of the community, she was just a poor girl who assisted her mother with their small street food business. She finally built enough courage and stepped out of the shadows to walk down the street, for her mother had sent her to buy a bread. Immediately one of the boys called out to her, “Ay Joannie, you want a drink or you waiting for Chucky?” She stopped to turn back, then changed her mind and as she passed the bar, two other boys tried to block her path. “Chucky’s bride, sure you don’t want a drink?” The girls all laughed as she stumbled while attempting to sidestep them. She didn’t stop at the shop for the bread, she just kept walking, not concerned about where she was going, the unkind laughter ringing in her ears. They were always calling her names akin to ugliness and all she wanted as a young girl was to be liked, to have friends, to do the things she loved. Joannie stopped walking, she was breathing heavily and was unaware about where she was. She had walked a long way in her distressed thoughts. Looking around she realised she was next to a cemetery. An old Methodist Church stood in the same ground; curiosity got the better of her and she walked in and sat on the steps. “I’ll just sit here for a little while,” she said to herself, “At least no one here will taunt me.” She leaned back against the rails and closed her eyes—her mind was relaxed in the still silence. A long while later, her senses were awakened by an invigorating masculine fragrance. She opened her eyes and jumped up startled. A handsome young man, dressed in an immaculate black suit was standing at the bottom of the church steps. She looked around to see who else was there, but there was no one. “Who are you?” She asked with a tinge of fear in her voice. It was unusual for someone dressed like that to be at the church at that hour, unless he was a … “Oh, no!” she gasped, her voice muted. He raised his head that he had lowered a little and looking at her; recognition grabbed at her with cold fingers. She gasped, stepping back, almost falling over. “Oh my God, I know you! You’re Damien, you died a couple months ago in a motorbike accident.” “Yep,” he nodded his head, standing there as though this was normal. Joannie tried to steady herself, taking several deep breaths. He seemed so real, like a living person that if she hadn’t recognised him, she wouldn’t have known she was talking to a ghost. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, “I am here for a good reason.” Her heart was still beating rapidly and she asked in a shaky voice. “Why am I seeing you?” “Because you need me.” “A ghost?” she asked in an incredulous tone. “And I need you,” he continued.

For a moment she didn’t say anything, feeling as though she was in some kind of crazy dream, then she said, “I don’t understand.” “I was not such a good person in life, I was wild and arrogant,” he admitted. “That I know,” she said quietly. “I was also a disobedient child, hurting my parents’ feelings. I did not listen to my mother, that day, when she told me not to go riding on that CBR. She is still crying for me.” Joannie sat down on the steps, his words seeming to calm her fear. Although he was not of this world anymore, she could understand his pain and she said, “After the accident that day, your friends were saying that death was riding with you.” There was a long moment of silence from him, then he said, “I wasn’t such a bad guy to go to hell, and not good enough for heaven, so I was sent back to do one great good for someone before the doors of heaven can open for me.” “Why did you choose me?” “I had been looking for someone who needed divine help and found no one until you walked in here tonight, in deep emotional pain.” “Story of my life,” she said, “Don’t think anything can change that.” “Yes it can. The beauty inside you must be brought to the outside, so you can be seen and loved for who you are.”

“I’m not sure about that,” she said, an uncertain look in her eyes. “We’ll see,” he said. Joannie wasn’t sure how she reached home that night.” In the morning, she did not bother to look in the mirror and walked slowly down the old stairs, not sure what she would see. But there was nothing unusual and as she ate breakfast, she pondered about the encounter with Damien’s ghost. It all seemed so real, but as the day progressed, she concluded, “It was either a dream or I am losing my mind.” Night approached and she stayed at home, not daring to go out in the streets but as the hours wore on, he arrived on a CBR bike. “Oh damn!” she exclaimed quietly, “This is real.” This time she wasn’t scared, maybe it was idea of divine help. He guided her, showing her the fine things in life, how not to be self-conscious of her looks, for in everyone there was something beautiful. She had a beautiful laughter that she was not aware of, given she hardly laughed. He walked with her everywhere, an unseen bodyguard, helping her to build her courage and self-confidence, day after day. She did not go to the market anymore hiding her face under a straw hat, nor sitting anymore at the back of the church. Her personality changed with a warm smile and confident tone, surprising all those who often ridiculed and scorned her. Her new found self-belief gave her the encouragement to follow a dream she had been nurturing, that is to open her own little snackette thus extending the family’s food business.

Damien advised her to talk to his mother for assistance from the Damien Foundation she had established in his memory, which was the start Joannie needed to elevate her life from poverty.

In the morning now, when she looks in the mirror, she sees that beauty from within and a sparkle in her eyes, Damien had done his great good and Heaven welcomed him as life did for her.