No one knows who he was, nor what he looked like.

The mirror knew him.

He was the very first reflection the mirror had ever carried.

Within it, he saw a face so sincere, so full of joy.

It seemed as though the mirror itself had begun to shine more brightly.

Hanging upon the wall, the mirror quietly watched, day and night, as countless reflections passed across its surface.

Little hands would sometimes smudge it.

They made faces before it.

And always laughed with carefree delight.

There was nothing remarkable about it.

Yet this mirror knew how to hold a human reflection.

To it came the sorrowful and the angry.

The anxious and the troubled.

The dreamers, the curious, the lost, the absorbed.

It held human sorrow…

…and revealed human gentleness.

The mirror did not hide.

The mirror did not weep.

The mirror did not cry out…

…it did not judge…

…it did not comfort…

The mirror always remained silent…

…it did not beautify…

…it did not belittle…

…it did not lie…

It simply reflected what stood before it.