The Looking Glass

By Viniece Swan

A piece of mirror was found long, long ago, by a loving husband and taken home to his wife as a gift. The
grateful wife quickly discovered her love for her gift and her gift quickly showed her love in return. The
wife then gave her mirror the name, The Looking Glass.
The Looking Glass was then framed in oak wood for its protection as it was now looked upon as the
most valuable family heirloom and passed down from generation to generation.
Finally one day The Looking Glass ended up in the hands of a young Candice Lou Jones, holding within
itself, lifelong answers to questions that Candice’s heart so deeply longed to have answered over
several years of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781532082085

Viniece Swan

Viniece Swan has dedicated over 26 years to a calling of Spiritual Healing and Guidance. Her passion is to assist individuals, who seek simple ways to understand, build, and maintain the ability to progress in life regardless of the untimely obstacles that appear across ones path during their life’s journey.

Book preview

The

Looking

Glass

VINIECE SWAN

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THE LOOKING GLASS

Copyright © 2019 Viniece Swan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-8207-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-8208-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019915086

iUniverse rev. date: 11/13/2019

Contents

Chapter 1

Vera Jeans’ Journey

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 1

M y name is Candice Lou Jones. I stood at least five feet two inches tall at the time. My hair was shoulder length and extremely curly with the texture of my Dads’ hair and a very light-colored weird shade of blonde.

My eyes are blue like my Dads. Some people find me a beautiful sight for sore eyes and others find me a bit strange looking. I don’t know if it’s my brown freckles that run across my nose to each one of my cheeks or is it because my complexion isn’t as white as my Dads, I just don’t know. Some people say I look like my Mom too, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen my Mom. Dad told me she died when I was born but that’s all he has ever said. I knew nothing about her, and Dad never wanted to talk about her. Even though I’ve always wanted to know more about her and my history, I didn’t want to cause my Dad pain in his heart, by asking questions.

The date was May 19, 1992, my tenth birthday. My Dad really tried to make that birthday special. Instead of a birthday party as usual, this year he gave me a key from his pocket. I took the key from him and looked at it and looked back at him, waiting for him to explain. This key goes to the second storage out back that I never open. Your gift is in there. He said, satisfying my curiosity. I jumped up and ran outside and quickly unlocked the door to the storage. Dad made his way out with me and walked up behind me as I opened the door.

The outside light barely shined enough light into the darkened storage, but it managed to immediately reveal a very old, very large mirror. The mirror was the creepiest mirror I had ever seen. It gave me the impression of a fearless giant that mimicked a god over everything else in the storage, or maybe a doorway to a whole other side of life. It stood tall in the back of the storage, against the wall and was surrounded by a lot of dusty boxes and dusty furniture that lined the outer walls. I looked around in the slightly darkened storage and noticed it all looked like the makings of a spooky, antique thrift store.

Dad, that mirror is scary! I exclaimed feeling fear lay across my shoulders. Yes, it does kind of shake you up at first glance. He reluctantly agreed. It’s nothing to worry about; it’s kind of like a family lucky charm. He added, trying to help me overcome my fear of the wooden and glass giant mirror.

I feel like it’s staring me straight in the face! I exclaimed with fear coming out of my gut. I slowly made a few steps inside of the storage, as I felt the mirror draw me closer to its mystical vibe.

The wood on it was dark brown and worn in many places. It was a long oval shaped mirror that stood on a stand that allowed it to lean outward and inward. Lean it outward to see your upper half up close, lean it inward to see your lower half up close and straight up and down to get a look of your full self. The glass was also worn a little. It had what looked like thin black streaks going through certain areas of the glass. The streaks could’ve easily been hairline cracks. The giant looked a haunting twenty feet tall and I almost couldn’t breathe just looking up at it standing over my head.

I stepped to the center of it and looked deeply into it, feeling as if I were entering another world. I don’t think I like this birthday gift, Dad, especially this mirror. It feels like it’s watching me, like it has a soul. I said with a trembling voice. Suddenly I felt a cold breeze come from the center of it and it covered me from head to toe. It blew air on me! I shouted as I quickly began to back away from the breathing giant. I turned and looked at my Dad as I backed out of the storage, almost running him over while tripping over my own two feet.

I made motions to frantically close the door. Wait Candice Dad hurried and grabbed the door before I could slam it shut. He stepped inside and grabbed a box from one of the old dusty shelves. Here you go he handed me the box. Is this my special birthday gift, a dusty, old box? I asked feeling disappointed. Well Candice, it’s not the box itself; it’s what’s inside the box that’s special. He advised.

Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out yet, another key.

Open it, he said with a firm voice. I eagerly stuck the key into the lock and popped it open. There in the box laid a beautiful butterfly charm attached to a gold chain. The butterfly was filled with small stones of almost every color in a crayon box. Its wings were trimmed with gold and were spread wide. I became very excited. This is beautiful! Is the necklace mine? I asked hoping the answer was yes.

Yes, the box and everything inside of it, is yours. Dad answered with a sparkle in his bright blue eyes. He helped me put the necklace on as I struggled to do it myself.

The box also had an envelope inside, and I was eager to get it open.

Dad was getting ready to leave for his usual evening walk. One more thing, he said sounding a bit firm, read the letter, it will help you understand everything else.

Oh, ok, well um I guess I should get started. I answered while feeling a bit weird about the rules of my surprise.

I think it’s going to need my undivided attention; don’t you think Dad? I asked as he moved closer to the door to leave. Yeah, so I’m leaving now to give you a little time! He answered.

Finally, Dad was gone.

I opened the envelope and began reading the letter.

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June 1, 1982

To My dear, sweet, beautiful baby girl, Candice Lou Jones. Happy tenth birthday! I know your Dad tried his best to make this birthday a very special birthday and soon, you will understand why.

His special birthday gift to you is a special birthday gift from me to you.

I left all our family’s possessions to you. Our most prized possession is our family heirloom, The Looking Glass.

The Looking Glass holds the answers to all the questions that you’ve carried in your heart over the years of your life. Take care of it; it will be there during times you think you have no one.

By now, you should have seen The Looking Glass and felt the strength in its aura. Also, you should be wearing a very beautiful butterfly necklace, given to you by your Dad. The beautiful necklace was given to me as a genuine token of love.

What I’d like you to do next may sound strange, but please, follow my instructions. Stand in front of The Looking Glass and look deeply into it with an open heart. Don’t be afraid as you will feel its spiritual ability to connect with you. It will then reveal things you’ve been longing to know, and you will experience a journey you never would’ve imagined. Do this and your life will progress and never be the same!

I am so sorry I had to leave the world before we could build our relationship. I want you to know that I won’t ever stop getting to know you.

I know this all sounds strange but allow my gift to enlighten you; I promise you won’t be disappointed.

I love you and I’m very much with you, more than you know.

Love always and forever

Your mother:

Vera Jean

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I had to ask myself if I had really just read a letter from my mother. I stood there outside of the storage in disbelief. I then stepped inside and looked right at The Looking Glass. I slowly walked down the middle aisle as if I were walking to the gallows. Although my Mom’s letter warned me not to be afraid, I couldn’t help myself, I was very afraid. I was extremely afraid of the creepy looking mirror called The Looking Glass. It looked as if it were designed to keep secrets. I wanted to turn around and run but I kept walking because I wanted to feel like I was making my mom proud.

Finally, there I was, standing right in front of The Looking Glass just like my Mom requested. I put my hand on my new necklace and gripped it, as I shook inside.

A cool breeze came out of the sparkling glass and it softly blew across my face. The breeze frightened me but not as much as the first time. The cold air was like fingers running through my hair. I began to speak out loud.

Okay Mom, I’m standing in front of the creepy old mirror, now what? I asked as I stood there, trying to pretend like I wasn’t afraid. The glass began to glow. I thought I saw the silhouette of a person slowly beginning to appear. I jumped back thinking I must be losing my mind to think I saw someone in the mirror besides myself.

Candice my beautiful baby girl, a woman’s voice called out to me, Oh how I longed for the day to see you stand before me. Her voice sounded far, far away, as if it were coming from millions of miles away. The voice continued speaking as the figure in the mirror grew clearer. Your baby girl, I repeated with disbelief. I am Vera Jean, your mother. She said with a deep warm smile. I felt my soul freeze in shock.

First, I wanted to scream. I had never seen a ghost before, especially one that talked. I ran to hide behind the nearest piece of furniture I saw. Candice, I’m your mother and I love you; I’m not going to hurt you. Come back. The woman’s voice pleaded. I knew I had to be out of my mind, but I went back to the mirror being led by the soft, sweet, kindness in her voice.

As I ran away, the glow in it began to go dim but when I returned, it began to glow again. The woman claiming to be my mother was still standing on the other side of the mirror, waiting for me to gather myself.

She continued to speak. I know this is very overwhelming but truly, there is nothing to be afraid of. Come closer so that I can get a good look at you. You have grown so much. She said as her smile grew bigger and bigger.

I walked closer and she raised her hand and placed it on the mirror. She waited for me to raise my hand as well, gesturing to be hand to hand. I decided to let go of most of my fear and placed my hand on the glass to match up with hers. I felt my whole body warm up inside and out. For once in my life I felt complete. I took several deep breaths and I felt tears fill my eyes. I know Candice; I understand how overwhelmed you must be feeling. I know there’s a part of you that believes you’re dreaming, but that’s not the case. I am really here, standing before you. You are actually looking at your mother.

The tears began to fall from my eyes’. At first, I was too shocked to say a whole lot. At the time, it felt good to just lay my eyes upon my mother rather than speaking to her.

She continued speaking, I have so much I need to share with you so we must use the time we have wisely because although it seems time is moving slowly, it’s really moving very fast. She added.

Oddly my mother looked as if she were a teenager so; I had to ask, If you’re really my mother, why do you look so young? She smiled and answered Here time moves backwards, and we grow from old to young instead of young to old like people do there. As you walk this enchanting journey with me, you will quickly understand. She answered.

Mom, you are so beautiful, and I love your dress, I added. My mother was wearing a simple, yet comfortable looking long white flowing dress that almost reached her ankles. The dress had long sleeves and was really nothing fancy at all but that’s what made it so beautiful. She wore a ring of flowers like a crown around the top of her head made of Gardenias. She didn’t have shoes on her feet, just an anklet made of small sun flowers. Everything about my mother was simply beautiful. Her complexion was like a milk chocolate candy bar and looked equally as smooth. There was a soft breeze where she stood, and I knew she was in a perfect place.

She began to tell me about the history of The Looking Glass.

"I have so much to show you. First, I want to tell you all about The Looking Glass and how it came to be so important to our family.

The Looking Glass was looked into by ancestors since the 1800’s and it had to be handled gently with care. As the story was told, it didn’t always stand within its big and solid Oak frame. Sometime through history, an ancestor had it framed. The Looking Glass has seen many ups and downs in our family, throughout history. It has witnessed generations of lives and testimonies, tears and strengths. It has shown us so much love, support and comfort until it earned standing freely and independently on its own.

The ancestor chose to put an Oak frame around it to represent the strength of generations. At least that’s the story that was handed down generation after generation."

My beautiful mother Vera Jean finished explaining most of the history behind The Looking Glass and I became very excited.

Next, she told me about her plans. I’m going to take you on a visual journey, enlightening you about the circle of life and death. I want you to know what my life was like from the age of ten and what it was like for me when I was introduced to The Looking Glass. I’m sharing the details of my journey with you so that you will have the knowledge you need in life, as your life’s journey has already begun and your journey with The Looking Glass will begin from this day forward.

Well, when will we get started with all this journey stuff? I asked becoming overly excited. It has already begun. She answered as her voice slowly faded away.

Just as quickly as my mother appeared in The Looking Glass, she was suddenly gone. The scenery within The Looking Glass began to twirl counterclockwise, creating a glowing, spinning whirlwind, like a golden twister. Not to my surprise, I felt the air spinning gently around me but affecting nothing else near by.

A few moments passed and the spinning motion finally came to an end. The Looking Glass began to show my mother’s life, rewinding all the way back from the age of ten. I heard her voice and the journey began.

VERA JEANS’ JOURNEY

It was the season of a slow-moving spring toward the end of March 1970. The sun was bright and rayed proudly over the city I lived in called Sacramento, California. Back then, Sacramento was slow moving, no where near as crowded as it became.

Sacramento is known for all its beautiful trees of every kind. The city is surrounded by lakes and rivers, old western towns, museums, many landmarks, and very near the ever-popular gold rush territory. It was a beautiful place to live growing up.

My Momma and Daddy were from the southern state Louisiana but wanted to move to a place where more opportunities existed. Daddy decided that place was Sacramento, California and Sacramento is where I was born.

I was ten years old that spring, a bit skinny and about seventy pounds. I had a darker complexion, about four feet tall.

I usually wore my hair in different styles, but during this time I wore braids with beads and aluminum foil on the ends to keep the beads from falling out.

I never had a lot of friends. I had just one real good friend. Other kids found it hard to be friends with me because I was so different than most of them. Thanks to my parents, I picked up their very heavy country accents and spoke that way all my life. My accent simply made it hard for other kids to understand what I was saying. I didn’t speak as well or as proper as they did. I didn’t fit into the cool crowd, nor did I enjoy the things they were into. I never felt like I was missing out on anything.

Some kids made fun of me and some didn’t bother with me at all. They called me weirdo a lot. I never allowed how people saw me or the name calling to bother me one bit. I actually felt sorry for the kids that acted that way toward me and I felt highly privileged to be different than everyone else.

I spent a lot of time with my Momma and my God Momma. I probably learned too much too soon. Some things I picked up just by being around older people and some things I was taught. Momma talked to me a lot, she said she was educating my mind for my future.

My Momma’s name was Lou Marian Smith. It seemed like she stood 8 feet tall and weighed, I don’t know, maybe 300 lbs. She wasn’t a huge woman, but it seemed like 260 of those pounds were the weight of her butt, alone and the remaining forty pounds was all the rest of her. She had a big bright smile that made you smile but when she was serious, you knew because you would hear it in her voice and see it on her face!

Her skin was a radiant dark complexion, she glistened. Her hair was silky and thick, it had deep waves and it was jet black and it fell midway down her back, resting between her shoulder blades.

I loved looking at her. I still do.

Over the years, I finally realized she was only 5 feet tall and always wore 3-inch heels at minimum.

Momma was almost dressed and getting to my favorite part soon, which is standing in front of The Looking Glass to see her beautiful finished product. The phone started ringing just as she stood up from the edge of the bed.

She told me to answer the phone.

Hello, Hi God Momma I said with a smile from my heart. Hello Vera Jean. Tell your mother I’m on my way, I’m getting ready to walk out the door right now. She said, sounding in a rush. I gave Momma her message. Hurry up Momma yelled from the background toward the phone.

My God Momma hung up the phone without saying goodbye and that use to hurt my feelings, just click, right in a person’s face! One day I asked Momma why she did that, Momma said because she didn’t believe in saying bye unless it was for good or forever. They also raised me not to say goodbye for the same reasons.

My God Momma’s name was Charlotte Jennifer Adams. She was a no- nonsense kind of lady. She didn’t like husband thieves, but she made an exception once in a while when she wanted to do it, at least that’s what I heard some people say when they thought I wasn’t listening.

She was a slim, very kind, energetic lady. I never knew what race my God Momma was. Some people said she was White, some said Creole, some said half breed, some even said just a light skinned Black woman. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All I knew is that she was my God Momma, full of soul, didn’t put up with drama, and I loved her. She had short curly hair, long legs another one with a bright beautiful smile. She always wore short dresses; I use to overhear men trying to whisper in her ear to tell her she had very pretty and sexy legs.

I have to hurry up Momma said as she finished putting on her pantyhose.

Open my closet and pull out my long silk red dress, the one that drags the ground, with the thin layer of fur around the edges of it, Momma shouted. Hurry up, your Daddy singing tonight, and I have to be there front and center. I don’t want to have to beat him up on that stage about all those women trying to act like they don’t know he’s married!

I pulled the dress out the closet and she hurried up and snatched the plastic off of it that the cleaners put on it and threw it on the bed. She slipped on the long silky flowing red dress. Hand me my lip stick case she said anxiously while looking into The Looking Glass and extending her arm behind her to grasp the lip stick case. All done now’ she said. What do you think, is your Momma beautiful or is she beautiful? she asked with a chuckle. I looked around her to see her reflection in The Looking Glass and there she stood. Momma was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Oh, Momma I can’t wait to grow up so I can be beautiful like you and wear beautiful things like you and smell beautiful like you!" I smiled with hope in my heart.

She stood there in The Looking Glass and said "Daughter, remember this always, no matter how old you get, always remember where you come from and always remember that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and beauty also comes from within a person. Beauty is more than looks, it’s your roots, it is the way people act and treat others. Beauty is how people speak and respect others, beauty is manners, kindhearted, faith, strength and so many other positive things, not just in the way a person look or the things they may have.

The eyes of the beholder find beauty in a lot of different things, about a person.

Also, always do your best to be a beautiful person. Remember not all people are meant to see your beauty and some will see it and still won’t admit they see it. I will explain all that later, just don’t forget who you are and where you’re from." Momma turned and leaned down to kiss my forehead and put dark ruby red lipstick on me. She did one swipe to wipe the thick red kiss off but smeared it.

I heard a car pull up, making a short screech noise. Momma sat back down on the edge of the bed. Put my shoes on me daughter, I don’t want to chip my nail paint she said as the bed squeaked. I hurried to put them on because she wanted to get outside and to the car before my God Momma could get out. If God Momma got inside before Momma got outside, they would be another hour leaving because God Momma would want to have a drink first. Momma wanted to hurry to get to my Daddy’s jazz concert before all those women filled the seats, I guess.

My Daddy’s name is James Lee Smith, but people call him Lee. Everyone seemed to love him. He was popular in the jazz music industry back then; he played the saxophone and no one could play it like him. I heard people say that Daddy would make women take off everything when he plays the saxophone.

When I imagined women taking off everything just because he played an instrument good, I’d think, poor Daddy, he had to see women without their make up, wigs and false teeth. I felt sorry for him.

I told Daddy that I heard a woman say to another woman that she wanted to take off all her stuff when she heard him play. I heard this when he took me to school and was taking me into the classroom. Two ladies were whispering about him and smiling at him when we walked by, and that’s when I heard it.

I told him how I felt sorry for him because he had to see the ladies without their wigs, makeup and teeth, and I know the women had on wigs because Momma and God Momma would laugh about how they wanted to slap the wigs off them watermelon head heifer’s or slap the teeth out their raggedy mouth.

I once asked Daddy, By the way, Daddy, what is a heifer? Daddy looked shocked at me and asked, where you get that word from young lady? I told him about one of the times that I heard Momma and God Momma call the ladies around him at his concerts that word. He said as he laughed Don’t worry about any of that babe, and I don’t even notice the ladies when they’re around me.

For some reason, he laughed a few more times after that.

Daddy is a good-looking guy, even right now in his older age. Even though he looks a little darker now, Daddy had a lighter brown complexion, stood about 5'9" tall and about 225 or so lbs of muscle. He was kind of slim but muscular. He recorded many songs and was just awesome in the music industry in those days.

Momma was finally completely ready, looking stunning and ready for her night out. Bye Momma I said feeling kind of sad that she was leaving but happy because she was excited to go. She turned and looked back at me and said, Not bye, just see you later or good day! Oh yea, see you later I said back to her with a wave. And another thing she added, You already know not to go in my room while I’m gone, right? Yes, Momma I know I replied. She closed the front door behind her, and I locked it. She made it outside before God Momma could get out the car.

I heard the car drive away. God Momma drove so fast, the car tires always made a short screech noise whenever she came to a stop. Her car made a long loud screech noise whenever she drove off. Momma said she drove like a bat out of hell. I didn’t know bats could drive nor came from hell. I guess to really think about it, if bats