Home Moral Stories My MIL Sabotaged My Little Girl’s Pageant Dress — Just Because She...

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My MIL Sabotaged My Little Girl’s Pageant Dress — Just Because She Isn’t Her Biological Granddaughter



Sometimes, the people who are expected to love us most turn out to be the cruelest. I never thought anyone could be that cruel to a child. On the morning of the school pageant, my daughter’s dress was ruined. What hurt most wasn’t the damage… it was knowing exactly who did it and why.


Six years into my marriage with Charles and those sounds still made my heart swell. Watching our daughters, Lily and Linda, my daughter and his daughter from our previous marriages — become indivisible has been the greatest gift of this whole mixed family thing.


“Mom! Can we have cookies now?” Lily said.


“Only if you’ve finished your homework!” I answered.


Thundering footsteps cascaded down the stairs as both girls, now 15, burst into the kitchen, laughing.

“We’re starving,” Linda proclaimed dramatically, reaching for a cookie. Her dark curls matched her father’s, while Sophie’s blonde waves came from me.



“Dad’s going to be late again, isn’t he?” Lily asked, perching on a barstool.


I nodded, sliding glasses of milk their way. “Budget meeting. He said not to wait up.”


“Hey, did you guys see the flyer? For the Spring Pageant?” Linda asked, her eyes bright with excitement. “We should totally do it.”



Lily hesitated. “I don’t know…”


“Come on! We could wear matching dresses and everything,” Linda said.


“And who’s going to make these matching dresses?” I raised an eyebrow, already knowing I’d be volunteering.



For illustrative purpose only

They both turned to me with identical pleading expressions.



“Please, Mom? You’re amazing with the sewing machine,” Lily said.


“Please, Elina?” Linda shouted. She’d never called me “Mom,” but the way she said my name carried the same warmth.


“Fine,” I laughed. “But you’re both helping with the design.”



He pulled me close. “That’s great. My mother called, by the way. She wants us all for Sunday dinner.”


My stomach knotted. “Wendy invited all of us?”

Even in the darkness, I felt his hesitation. “Well, she asked about Liza specifically, but—”


“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “We’ll all go. It’s been weeks since her last… comment.”


Charles sighed. “I’ve talked to her so many times, Elina. I don’t know what else to do.”


I squeezed his hand. “We just keep showing her that we’re a family… all of us.”


Sunday dinner at Wendy’s sprawling colonial house was always an exercise in restraint. And that day was no exception.


“Linda, darling, I got you something,” she announced after we finished her famous pot roast. She pulled out a small jewelry box and handed it to her granddaughter.



Linda opened it to find a delicate silver bracelet with a heart charm. “Wow, thanks, Grandma!”


Lily sat quietly beside her, her sad eyes fixed on her empty plate. I felt a familiar burn in my chest.


“The girls have exciting news,” I said. “They’re both entering the Spring Pageant at school.”


“How lovely,” Wendy said, her smile dimming slightly. “Linda, you’ll be amazing on stage. You have your late mother’s grace.”


“Both girls will be astonishing.”


“Of course,” Wendy said contemptuously, then turned to Linda. “Are you wearing the blue dress we saw at the mall last month?”


“Actually,” I insinuated, “I’m making their dresses. Matching ones.”


“Matching? But Linda should stand out. She’s got the looks.”


“Mom?” Charles concerned.


“What? I’m just saying some girls are naturally more suited for these things. It’s genetics.”


“May I be excused? I need to use the bathroom.” Lily said.


After she left, I leaned forward. “Wendy, we’ve talked about this. Both girls deserve equal treatment.”


“Equal treatment?” She said. “Elina, dear, I’m not being brutal. I’m being practical. Sophie is YOUR daughter. Not David’s. Why assumed otherwise?”



For illustrative purpose only

“Because we’re a family,” Charles said firmly. “All of us.”

“Family is blood,” Wendy whistled, her voice hard as stone.


“You can’t transform that with wishful thinking. Lily is not my granddaughter. And she never will be.”


“Mom, can you please—”


“Charles, it’s okay.” I cut him off gently, already turning toward the stairs. “Let’s just go home.”



I headed up to get the girls.


I stayed up late working on the dresses which has pale blue satin with hand-embroidered flowers across the bodices. The girls would try them on, twirling in front of the mirror, preparing their hair and makeup.


“These are the most beautiful dresses ever!” Lily confirmed.


“Elina, you’re a genius!” Linda agreed.



For illustrative purpose onlyFamily vacation packages

I smiled, exhausted but proud. “You’re both going to steal the show.”


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