Sacrifice

“Oh!”  She squealed in delight.  “This is the one!”

Lizzy pulled the prom dress off the clothing rack and held it up against herself.  Her mother, standing beside her, tried to maintain a neutral expression.

“I don’t know.”  Martha said, examining the price tag.  “It’s a bit, well, I just don’t know.”

Lizzy glanced at her mom.  She noticed the dark circles under her mom’s eyes, the tired droop of her shoulders. 

Martha’s eyes met her daughter’s, seeing the despondency from a lifetime of struggle in eyes too young.

“It’s perfect.  You will be the prettiest girl at the dance.”