A/N: This was a one-off piece that I had felt compelled to write, the orignial is A Glimpse of the Other Side. I’ve revised some of the piece and reposted this chapter as the first part of the story I’ve now created. Reviews are always helpful. winks

A petty and lonely woman stood at my door. She was bedraggled, dirty and was looking for a place to rest her bones, if only for a night. Her hair was a nest of tangles and home to a few twigs. The woman’s clothes were no better cared for than herself. She stood there leaning on a yew branch, pleading with her mismatched coloured eyes; one blue, one brown.

And I stared back, debating whether I should let such a distasteful person into my house; a clean, opulent house. What would the neighbours say? I would be ignored for my crime until I next showed them up. And what would my crime be anyway; helping an unfortunate that needs a little generosity to help her on her way. I may be a little selfish but my heart is not made of stone as the others of high society have made theirs.

I opened my door wide and called the maid. The woman thanked me for my kindness. I got the maid to let the woman bathe in the guests’ suite and find some nightclothes so she may sleep. I piled a tray with meats, cheese, thick slices of buttered bread and a glass of fresh milk. She spent a long time bathing. I was not surprised as one would want to be as clean as possible each chance one gets. The woman sat at the small oak table where I had set the platter of food and myself at the end. A screen of plants separated this common area from the four-poster bed across from the bathing room. We did not speak in conversation while she ate; letting me observe her and she ate in peace.

It was kind of funny when I saw her mannerisms as she ate. It was not unlike how we acted while dining in company, though more primitive. The woman cut her food into smaller pieces just as we would but used her hands to put the bits into her mouth. Her appearance had changed since the dirt had been washed away. The lines on her face were smoother and finer than the dust had led one to believe. The grease had hidden the natural luminescence of the woman’s brown hair.

The last sunbeams of the day streaked through the large windows and lit the strands into a beautiful reflection as she walked through the greenery into the private quarters. She opened the covers, sat on the bed and then swung into it. My first impression of this woman melted and changed as I watched her settle to sleep. I left the suite with the empty tray between my hands.

A summer storm had passed over during the night. Normally I could sleep through most of the downpour yet this was a night where I woke at the height of the storm. An uneasy feeling had settled on my shoulders, dampening my love of the weather. I sat at the window, staring into the darkness and wondering whether my houseguest slept peacefully. As I watched a light flickered in the room given to the woman. The doors to the room’s railed balcony opened and a shadowed figure stepped into the rain. It was almost comforting that someone else was also restless, thus my unwarranted anxiety lessened and I was able to return to peaceful slumber.

The morning came and the sun shone through a thin cover of clouds, the remnants of the storm. I rummaged in my wardrobe to find clothing which was the right size for the woman. My maid would have picked any old dress that I did not wear anymore; nevertheless I had had a revelation in the night so I wanted to choose appropriately. Pairs of shoes went with the clothes to the woman’s room; she said she would take her leave after the morning meal. I sent the stable hand to pack our mare for a journey. The old horse was dear to my heart but we would have not been able to stable her soon. I would rather to give her away than sell her to the butcher.

I met the woman just before she left, to wish her good journey. She was different then as her hair seemed longer and she stood taller than before. The woman planted her yew staff in the corner of my garden as a gift, telling me it would bring me good luck. My old mare took to her like a filly to an open field. She blessed the goodness of my heart; telling me that those who do not serve others will be returned in kind yet some will be given a second chance.

I watched a transformation take place as the woman left my house. I saw a proud woman walk down my steps then a noblewoman as she mounted the mare. The lines disappeared from her face and she became younger in body and spirit. My last glimpse of the woman I had helped was a dawning of familiarity and possibility.

My revelation was this: the lowliest can be highborn even though everyone around them believes the outward appearance. Just one kind deed can better another’s life.

She stared into my mismatched coloured eyes; one blue, one brown. The breeze caught my copper hair and covered my view. When I looked back, I was gone.