The saga of Penelope Peacock is not for her self-glorification, but for posterity’s sake, as it takes place in a woman’s world of woes, in every era.
“She was so vain.”
“Just how vain was she?”
“On a scale of one to ten, with ten as the highest possible score, Penelope rated at least an eleven in her own eyes.”
Penelope was born like the rest of us, simply a person. She came into the world the same way we all do. Destined with the fate of the vainglorious, Penelope’s pride was ultimately her downfall.
One part of Penelope’s vanity had to do with her prettiness, an outer beauty unsurpassed by the beauty of others, at least in her eyes. Of course, peacocks are beautiful, particularly the males, but sadly, her inner beauty was sorely lacking.
Those of lesser beauty took pride in imagining they were friends with pretty Penelope. She never rewarded anyone for adoration; instead, she abused everyone because of their homeliness for which she felt the need to humble them. Penelope was the only one who could possibly occupy the throne at
One day, Penelope’s haughtiness, reflected in her mirror, led to her downfall.
The saga goes like this.
Penelope always saw her own beauty as beyond perfection; everyone else had imperfect beauty. One day, while preening her feathers in front of a mirror, she boasted of her perfect prettiness to a young girl. Suddenly, the light of the mirror exposed the truth about her inner unhappiness, jealousy and contempt, which was anything but beautiful.
“Perfection is in heaven,” said the girl, who radiated inner beauty.
“In heaven?” screamed Penelope. “So I am not perfectly pretty?”
“Not on earth,” cried the little girl. “We are only truly beautiful in the eyes of God. He sees us beyond our imperfection while we are here.”
That sealed Penelope Peacock’s fate. She was no longer able to see herself as perfectly pretty. Alas, she died, sad and alone. Her vanity did her in.
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