It was three weeks to the Valentine’s Day dance at Victory’s school, but she had one problem—she had no date. And to make matters worse, the boy she did like already had a girlfriend, Meronna Minschue, who was by far the brattiest and most spoiled girl in the school. Most boys like Meronna for her beauty and her neat and snappy appearance. On the other hand, very few boys liked Victory. She was one of the most unattractive girls in the school. Her patched brown dress and her stringy black hair only added to her poor features. Victory couldn’t help the way she looked, however. Her parents were destitute and could barely afford necessary hygienic supplies, much less new clothes for their daughter.

Victory sighed as she gathered up her few schoolbooks and trudged to her next class, dragging her bare feet a little on the way. She always sat in the way back of the room so she wouldn’t be mocked by the rich girls. She was envious of their gorgeous dresses and finely combed hair. She was jealous of their pretty necklaces and their high-heeled slippers. But of course, she never let them know that. They would only laugh at her and mock her all the more.

Victory entered her science classroom and quickly seated herself at a desk in the far back. The rich girls sat farther up front. One of them was showing off an expensive leather purse dyed purple. Victory felt a stab of envy as she looked at the handmade bag. She knew she would never be able to afford anything like that. The girl who owned the purse glanced toward Victory, and Victory hurriedly took her eyes away from the bag and locked her gaze on a far corner of the room. The girls burst into laughter, but Victory ignored them. Still, she felt hurt. Why couldn’t she be rich like those girls?

______

That night at dinner, Victory asked her father, “Dad, can I work to earn us some money?”

Her father looked at her in surprise. “Work!” he exclaimed. “Victory, you’re only twelve years old. You’re not old enough to work, dear.”

“But how else can I earn money?” Victory asked.

Her mother gently broke in. “Victory, why do you want to earn money? Aren’t you thankful for what you do have?”

Victory hesitated. “Well, I guess I want to dress nicely like the girls at my school,” she replied, her voice coming out in a rush. “See, the Valentine’s Day dance is coming up at my school, and I want to look nice so a boy will like me and be my date, and. . .” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the way her mother was staring at her.

“Victory, true beauty is not found in expensive dresses or nice shoes or makeup or anything like that,” her mother wisely answered. “True beauty is found deep inside of you. Who you are is the beauty that should attract every man to you. If you’re a rude, selfish, rotten little brat, it will show, and no self-respecting boy will want you for his partner.  But if you show God’s grace, kindness, and love in your outward actions, you will stand out.”

Victory thought about her mother’s words from the time she washed the dishes from the time she went to bed.

______

A few days later, Victory was in the hallway, putting her books into her locker. While she was doing so, one of the rich girls came up behind her and purposefully jostled her, knocking the books out of her hand. Snickering, the rich girl walked off without bothering to pick up the books.

Victory’s face flushed with anger. As she stopped to retrieve the books, a boy suddenly appeared beside her. He was about thirteen years old, with thin black hair and tan skin. His blue eyes twinkled at her as he bent and helped her pick up her books.

“Thanks,” Victory said gratefully.

“You’re welcome,” the boy replied. He smiled. “My name’s Micah Junction. What’s yours?”

“Victoria Frosier,” she replied. “But you can call me Victory; everyone does.”

“Nice to meet you, Victory,” he said. He looked up at the ceiling, then back into her eyes. “By the way,” he casually inquired, “are you going to the Valentine’s Day dance?”

Victory shrugged. “I might,” she answered. “But I don’t have a date. What fun will it be if I don’t have someone to dance with?”

Micah grinned at her. “So you don’t have a date?”

Victory shook her head.

“Well, then. . .” He formally extended his hand to her. “May I have the pleasure of being your partner for the dance, Miss Victory?”

Victory was so astounded she nearly forgot what she was going to say next. “B-But I’m just a poor girl!” she exclaimed. “There are lots of girls that are prettier than I. Why would you pick me?”

Micah snorted. “And I suppose you mean all those fancily dressed, snobby girls who parade around the halls, showing off their fine attire? I wouldn’t date those brats for the world. Now,” he said, gazing admiringly at her, “when I spotted you the first day of this school year, I knew something was different about you. You didn’t brag. You never yelled at the rich girls, even when they mocked you. You always helped those in need, like that one girl who forgot to bring her lunch and you shared yours with her.” He grinned again. “That’s when I knew you were my right partner for the dance.”

Victory smiled too. “But I don’t have fine clothes to wear,” she said almost apologetically.

Micah beamed her another grin. “I have an idea about that,” he said, and began whispering into her ear.

______

It was Valentine’s Day, and the school dance was a blast. Pink, white, and red streamers and balloons were everywhere. A table full of drinks and desserts sat in a corner. Rose-colored spotlights were positioned on a silver disco ball, which slowly revolved and cast pink streaks on the walls and floor. The rich girls sat by the table with their dates, sipping punch ad chatting animatedly.

“I wonder where Victory is?” Meronna said in a tone of pretended alarm.

“Probably crying her eyes out over her lack of fine dresses,” Janice spoke, pretending to wipe away a tear. The other girls laughed.

“Will she even show up?” Ginger wondered.

“Maybe in her wretched school dress,” Meronna giggled.

Just then, Micah opened the gym door and called out in a loud voice, “All right, everyone, listen up!” All eyes were turned toward him. “Meet the new, improved, beautiful Victoria Frosier!”

When Victory walked into the room, every mouth dropped open and every eye widened. Victory was no longer the thin, sad-eyed girl in a burlap dress. She was clothed in an ankle-length gown of white. She wore a set of pearl earrings, and her black hair was arranged in neat curls. A plastic gold crown sat nestled on her head.  Her shoes matched her gown color, and her clear skin glowed radiant in the pink spotlights. Her brown eyes were somber but happy. She outshone every girl in the room.

Meronna stood to her feet. “Did a toad kiss you and turn you into a princess, Victory?” she demanded.

“Very funny,” Victory answered with a smile. “Micah’s mother outfitted me and dressed me up.” She pirouetted to show off the effect. “How do you all like it?”

Janice crossed her arms. “And since when did Micah start to like you?” she sneered. “Look at yourself! You’re a complete disgrace to all who see you!”

“Ever hear that true beauty is found on the inside, Janice?” Victory calmly retorted.

Janice was taken aback; she couldn’t say a word. Meronna snorted at Victory’s statement. “And where did you hear that, Victory?”

“My mother. . .and Micah.” Victory flashed her date a smile and daintily held out her hand. Micah took it, and she waltzed off with him for the next dance, leaving the other girls staring after them in complete disbelief. For once, they wished they possessed the outward beauty Victory did.

But Victory had learned her lesson on beauty. . .it’s found deep within, not on the surface.