As Halloween approaches, I'm reminded of the many stories people tell about mirrors.
Perhaps you've heard some of them.
Stand in front of a mirror in a dark room and say a name several times. Break a mirror and suffer years of bad luck. Cover mirrors after a death. Look long enough and you might see something staring back at you.
I've watched enough horror movies over the years to know that mirrors have a way of making people uncomfortable. Filmmakers certainly love them. A character looks into a mirror, turns away, then looks back again—suddenly something appears behind them.
The mirror itself isn't frightening.
Yet throughout history, people have surrounded mirrors with mystery, superstition, and fear.
That made me wonder: Why are we so fascinated by mirrors?
Perhaps it's because mirrors do something few objects can do. They show us ourselves.
Long before cameras, smartphones, and video calls, mirrors offered people their first glimpse of their own reflection. Ancient civilizations crafted reflective surfaces from polished stone, bronze, and other materials. Seeing one's own image may have felt almost magical.
Today, we know the science. A mirror simply reflects light.
Yet the fascination remains.
Maybe that's because mirrors raise questions that science alone cannot answer.
Who am I?
Who am I becoming?
What do others see when they look at me?
More importantly, what do I see when I look at myself?
A mirror can show my face, my hair, and the signs of aging that seem to arrive faster each year.
What it cannot show is my character.
It cannot reveal kindness.
It cannot measure patience.
It cannot reflect gratitude, forgiveness, or love.
A mirror can tell me what I look like.
It cannot tell me who I am.
The more I reflected on mirrors, the more I appreciated that the Bible also uses them as a symbol.
In the Book of James, a person who hears truth but fails to act on it is compared to someone who looks at their face in a mirror and then immediately forgets what they saw. The lesson is not really about the mirror itself, but about honest self-examination.
That perspective stayed with me.
A mirror can reveal my appearance for a few moments, but meaningful reflection asks a deeper question: What am I doing with what I see?
Growth begins not when we notice our imperfections, but when we learn from them.
Recently, I was reminded of another perspective on mirrors while learning about the mirrors found in some sealing rooms within temples of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Two mirrors face one another, creating what appears to be an endless series of reflections stretching far into the distance.
As I considered that image, I found myself thinking about family, faith, and personal growth.
The endless reflections reminded me that life is not a single moment frozen in time. We are constantly growing, learning, making mistakes, and finding opportunities to become better people.
The image also reminded me that our lives are connected to others. Family relationships, friendships, and communities often shape us in ways we do not fully understand until much later.
To me, the mirrors became a symbol of reflection rather than perfection.
When I look into a mirror, I do not see a perfect person.
I see someone still learning.
Someone who has made mistakes.
Someone who continues to grow.
Someone who still has opportunities to change.
Perhaps that is one reason mirrors remain so powerful.
Not because something mysterious lives inside them.
But because they invite us to pause and consider what kind of person we are becoming.
As for the Halloween stories, I suspect they will continue for generations to come.
People will keep telling ghost stories.
Movies will keep using mirrors to scare audiences.
Children will dare each other to test old legends.
And perhaps that is part of the fun.
But after all the stories are told, I believe the most interesting thing about a mirror is not what might appear behind us.
It is the person standing in front of it.
A mirror can reveal our appearance.
It cannot reveal our heart.
That part of the reflection belongs to us.
