van Amerongen

        This past Thanksgiving, my family decided to trek down to Mississippi to visit my grandmother in her tiny, little town. From the airport we dragged our luggage into the somewhat-miniature-Chevy-of-a-rental-car to drive the two hours to Columbus, “a certified retirement community.”

        Oh great! I am spending three school-free days of total bliss and harmony in a town full of geezers and all the snow peas I can eat.

        My grandmother rushed out of her memory-filled house the instant she saw us pull into the circular driveway. I rolled my eyes as I reluctantly crawled out of the car. I can't wait for the festivities to begin! Thursday rolled by and we were moving slower than . . . well . . . basically, we were doing nothing.

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        Short and vibrantly dressed, she always wears big hoop earrings and brilliant pink lipstick. While helping Grandma prepare for dinner, I was telling her about school and all my activities. Then the big question popped up, the question I was not prepared for and was hoping she'd never ask.

        “So Corrie, why don't you wear any makeup?”

        I was absolutely appalled! I for one am not the type to wear layers and layers of makeup. I am a very lazy person in the morning, and the last thing I'd want to do is spend an extra 15 minutes doing my face instead of sleeping.

        I stared blankly at her. My mom looked at me from across the table, knowing the answer, yet waiting to see my reaction. I thought of all the things I could say and all the things I would say. Holding my tongue, I thought up something quick, and I thought it up fast.

        “It's just not my personality, Grandma. I'm not the kind of person to be seen with a fake mask on.” She looked dumbfounded, as if I had sliced her through the heart with her compact mirror. I felt bad seeing the look on her face, but at the same time, I felt like I had conquered my very first battle of growing up.

        Then, after a few seconds of awkward silence, she mustered up and quietly said, “Well, I wore lipstick with my pigtails in sixth grade. That's what everyone in Nashville did.” She smiled and looked at me with the most innocence I'd ever seen her possess. I smiled back and at that moment, my dad made some “supposedly funny” remark and Grandma laughed her hearty, down to earth laugh.

        A number of girls my age have resorted to Cover Girl and Clinique, but I still trust in good old Noxzema and Clearasil to keep my face bare and clean.

        But after much pondering I came to the conclusion that while the Maybelline wand isn't my best friend, makeup is what makes up my grandmother. She loves to doll up her face in the morning and would never been seen out of her bedroom without anything on. And that's OK too.

        Corrie van Amerongen, 14, lives with her parents, brother, and sister in Evendale. She is a freshman at Sycamore High School and writes for its newspaper, The Leaf.

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