They had turned and looked with astonishment; their croaks and hawkish, almost unintelligible cries had been choked in concert, replaced with whispers...of amazement and gasps of wonder.The two men had been very kind and helpful to her, mindful of her dignity as a lady. A doctor was among the crowd of kinsfolk, and he alone was allowed to attend to her. Some more men offered to hold their cloaks and form a screen for her to give birth in something that could almost equal a privacy of sorts under. But I'm not particularly talented. I can't write. I can't direct. Ican't sculpt or paint. I can't act or sing or dance. When it comes totalent, I'm severely handicapped.God's gifts to me are of another kind. I am beautiful. Gorgeous, really.I say this with all humility, for it is God's gift to me; I did nothingto earn or merit being beautiful. I just am. (Well, okay, I guess Goddoes have a little help from the beautician and a few other folks; everygirl wants to look her best, after all.)I used. More

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