A pink ballerina ornament hanging from the Christmas tree twirled to musical bells and chimes. She spun round and round in a slow, rhythmic circle. Her toes bent to a perfect point and her gracefully lifted arms never flinched in fatigue. Through all of her pain, she managed to look beautiful.
Looking beautiful was all that mattered--all that was valued.
She was an ornament.
She was a woman.
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