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Maggie goes and retrieves a cart with all the goodies on it so Haven will have her pick. When she returns, she guides us to a seating area toward the back of the store and then pulls out a measuring tape to see what sizes need to be pulled for me.
“So, Indya, the theme for the gala is Starry Nights, right? Patricia mentioned you’d need the works but also something comfortable since you’ll be interpreting for her and standing most of the night. We need to find you a dress that’s movable, breathable, and comfortable, and shoes that won’t have your feet aching two minutes after you put them on. I’m going to grab some options for you. Don’t feel obligated to like or choose any of them; I want you to feel comfortable and confident in whatever you wear. If none of my pick’s work, you can look around and we’ll pull some of your choices to try on. Does that sound okay?” Maggie says, signing as she speaks to ensure I understand there are no hard feelings if I don’t like her selections.
“Of course, Maggie, but I have no doubt you’ll choose something magnificent,” I reply nervously, glancing at the myriad of options surrounding me.
She walks away in search of options for me to try on, and I sit next to Haven, who is dunking an Oreo into a cup of milk. She turns her head and smiles. She is currently on cloud nine; I have not seen her this excited since we first moved into the apartment, and she got her own room.
Haven, are you going to be honest and help me pick out a dress? Even if you don’t think it looks right, let me know. I promise today is not the day that my feelings will be hurt, hoping she will give me her honest opinion on everything.
Promise, mama,Haven says, signing one-handed as the other hand is holding her Oreo.
I straighten as Maggie returns with a rack of gowns, each one more beautiful than the last. Haven’s eyes are as wide as saucers, her mouth slightly ajar in awe. I turn to her,I’ll be in the room right across from you. Stay on the sofa and enjoy the snacks, okay?She nods eagerly, grabbing a pastry and still nodding her head as she watches the dresses with fascination.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the changing room. The first gown Maggie hands me is a dark blue, almost black dress with a halter neck that hugs curves I didn’t even realize I had. It’s stunning, but I can’t see myself wearing it to such a fancy gala. Haven seems to agree; as soon as I open the door, she gives me a thumbs down before I even reach the semicircle of mirrors and the little podium. I smile, appreciating her honesty, and head back to try on the next dress.
Dress after dress, nothing seems quite right. Haven’s expressions range from polite interest to outright disapproval, and I start to feel a bit disheartened. Finally, I’m down to the last dress. I saved this one for last, knowing Haven would love it because it looks like it sparkles. Sliding it on, I immediately feel a difference. The v-neckline tea-length dress is made of dark blue silk, stopping between my knees and ankles. Over the top is a layer of tulle covered in sequins that fall to my ankles, shimmering like stars in the night sky. The dress fits perfectly, accentuating my waist, and the flared skirt allows for easy movement. I feel like a princess.
Taking a deep breath, I open the changing room door. Haven’s eyes light up, and she claps her hands in delight. I step onto the podium, turning slowly in front of the mirrors. Maggie’s eyes twinkle with approval, “You look stunning.”
You look like a real-life princess, mama. Beautiful. So beautiful. Get this one. This one, mama. Yes. This one.
My eyes begin to water as I take in Haven’s awe. I have never felt like a princess before. The last time I was treated likeone was when my parents were alive, and even then, it was so long ago that the memory is faint. I let Maggie know that this is the dress, and she smiles warmly, telling me it’s a great choice and that I look stunning in it.
I change back into my own clothes and head up to the second floor for shoes and accessories. Maggie assures me that she has the perfect shoes and jewelry to complete the look, so this part doesn’t take long. We sit on another sofa, just as comfortable as the first, waiting in silence and taking in the surroundings while Maggie gathers everything she thinks I’ll need.
Maggie soon returns, pushing a cart laden with options. There are two pairs of elegant pumps and a tray sparkling with jewelry. I feel a bit overwhelmed; this feels like too much, especially since I’m not a guest at the gala but just hired help. Maggie stops the cart in front of us, and I glance at Haven. She’s smiling so big, her eyes glittering with excitement from all the sparkle on the cart. I gently remind her not to touch anything, and she nods, still caught in the sparkling daze.
Maggie holds out a pair of three-inch Jimmy Choo Romy 85 glitter pumps, “These are comfortable and stylish, perfect for a night of standing and interpreting." And these,” she says, lifting a pair of navy-blue pumps, “are a bit more formal but equally comfortable.” I try on both pairs, walking a few steps to test them out. Haven watches intently, her eyes following my every move.What do you think?
The silver ones! They look like stars!
I smile, agreeing with Haven’s choice. Maggie then shows us the jewelry, each piece more dazzling than the last. There’s a delicate necklace with tiny star-shaped charms, a pair of sparkling earrings, and a bracelet that catches the light beautifully.
“These will tie your whole look together,” Maggie says, her eyes twinkling. “You’ll be the star of the night.”
I feel a rush of gratitude and excitement. This experience has been more than just finding an outfit; it’s been a journey of feeling seen and valued. I thank Maggie, and we head back downstairs, ready to face the gala with confidence and style.
Maggie takes all the things we have chosen, and we make our way back to the first floor. Before saying goodbye, Maggie asks us to wait just a moment. She brings out a pink box and bends to her knees to be at eye level with Haven. She sits the box down on the floor next to her, so her hands are free to sign.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up. I wanted to find a prince and have him rescue me from everything I had to go through in life. You see, sometimes when we want something so bad, and we wish and wish for that one thing to happen. Eventually, when it does, you don’t know how to react to it. When I was about your age, I had to live in a house with people who were not my mommy or daddy. These people were so mean. They were bad people and did bad things, never having to face the consequences of their behavior. Are you understanding what I am telling you, Haven?
Haven nods eagerly, her eyes fixed on Maggie, completely absorbed in the story she’s telling. I stand next to my daughter, holding my breath. It feels as if Maggie is recounting my own story, not hers. The emotions start to overwhelm me as I listen with rapt attention, eager to hear the rest.
That’s good, dear. Every night I would look outside and wish on stars, and pray, with everything in me, that a prince would come rescue me from these bad people. Cinderella had Prince Charming, Ariel had Prince Eric, Rapunzel had Flynn Ryder, Jasmine had Aladdin, and my favorite princess of all time, Belle, had the Beast. What I am trying to get at is that there are also princesses that didn’t need a prince to save them.
Like Moana and Merida, those princesses saved themselves and their people. So, I started thinking, What if I don’t need a prince? What if I am the type of princess that can save herself? That is just what I did. One day, when I was around twelve or thirteen, the people who were supposed to take care of me, weren't. I was hungry and thirsty, dirty from being locked in my room, but I had an idea. I had this best friend from school; his name was Martin, and he was no prince, but he was a great friend to have. But I was going to tell him what was happening at home. Because if anyone knew who to go to for help, it was Martin. For my birthday, he brought me a present to school to give me. I had never gotten a present from anyone as long as I can remember, but he gave me one.
She grabs the pink box and opens the lid. Inside, nestled on a purple silk pillow, was the most beautiful crown I have ever seen. This crown bypassed all the ones you see on television, or in the magazines. It was a crown fit for a princess. It looked as if it came from the royal family. The band was sterling silver and covered in what looked like diamonds. When you got to the center of the sparkling band, it arched up going into several points; each section was filled with different jewels that were different shades of purples and blues. It was stunning.
When I opened it and saw this crown that is fit for a princess, I knew I was going to be okay. Now I had the proof that I was indeed a princess, and those bad people could not take it away from me. Martin told me to draw my strength from the crown and I would be able to do anything. So that is what I did. I placed this crown on my head and walked to the principal's office and told them exactly what was going on in that house. They were all arrested and put in jail before I got out of school. I was then placed with a family that was so loving and caring; they helped me grow into the woman I am today.I would like to pass along my princess crown to you, Haven. Because even though we don’t know each other very well, I can sense a princess when she is near. And you, my darling, are a complete princess. Remember, draw all your strength from the crown, and you can accomplish anything.
The tears fall down my cheeks as I look at my daughter, who is staring at Maggie in awe; she too, has tears running down her cheeks. Maggie places the crown on the head of curls and does a curtsey before my daughter. No one but Amara and me and my siblings have ever made her feel this special. Maggie swipes a tear from my cheek and hugs me tight, whispering in my ear, “This is only the beginning, child; go and make big things happen.”
I nod, unable to speak due to the lump in my throat. As we separate from the hug, Haven taps Maggie on the leg, her small fingers insistent. Maggie turns, giving her full attention to Haven.
Where’s Martin?
To say I was shocked at Haven’s question would be an understatement. I did not realize that she would understand everything Maggie had said. When I look back toward Maggie, she is beaming.
