urs away.

“Dad.” I looked up at him. “Do you think there’s any chance I could still wear Grandma’s dress to prom?”

Prom was only hours away.

Prom was only hours away.

The dress couldn’t be saved.

The next morning, Dad drove me to a little boutique across town.

Together we found a simple ivory gown that fit almost perfectly.

Before we left, he opened my grandmother’s old jewelry box.

“Here. Wear your Grandma’s pearls,” he said softly. “That way, you can still carry a part of her with you tonight.”

He opened my grandmother’s old jewelry box.

He opened my grandmother’s old jewelry box.

He fastened her hand-strung necklace around my neck himself.

When I looked in the mirror, the dress was different.

But the part of Grandma she’d stitched into me was still there.

That night, I twirled once before leaving for prom.

Just like I’d promised her.

The part of Grandma she’d stitched into me was still there.

The part of Grandma she’d stitched into me was still there.