The Shattered Mirror

Walking to the mirror that dark, cold night, she raises her eyes to see her reflection.
Just like every night.
Every golden hair in place, skin glowing, and blue eyes shining. Every feature angelic.
She is perfect.
Slowly she raises her hand to touch the glass. Slowly,  gently raising her finger to the reflection of her soft pink cheek. But just as she touches it with the tip of her finger,
It shatters.
It shatters and falls to her feet. It shatters into a million pieces.
She screams!
Her reflection gone!
So attached to that one thing she was. She couldn't go on without it. The one that that gave her peace!
She waled and screamed, panic filling her soul.
What would she do?
What would she do without seeing her angelic reflection every night. Her reflection soothing her. Showing her that YES! She was beautiful. Helping her deny her true state.
She would shatter.
Shatter into a million pieces just like the mirror. Thinking of the glass that lay at her feet, she looked down into the broken pieces at her feet.
Her heart sank at what she saw.
For this time the mirror showed her true reflection.
Her inward one.
A reflection not of face, but of soul. A soul fallen and shattered. A life gripping an image of the physical so as to forget the inward lack of the spiritual.
An image now shattered along with the shattered glass.
But with this shattering, that reached all the way to her soul,
A glimmer of light.
"Light?" she thought.  She looked up and found it was coming from behind where the mirror had been hanging. But what was it coming from... She looked hard, trying to make out its shape.
She gasped.
She knew what it was! It was covered with filth, and dirt. It was battered and bruised. Filled with doubt, and pride. But... the light emanating from it, was...
Beautiful.
More than any image she had seen. Joy filled her soul, and the light became brighter.
She felt peace the mirror had never been able to give her, because she was no longer looking at her reflection.
But her heart.