The Power of a Smile

One early morning, caught in my own thoughts, I walked into a familiar shop to grab a cup of coffee on my way to work.  I had been there enough to recognize the people behind the counter, younger than me they mark the sign of our times with tattoos and piercings, interestingly maintained facial hair, low hung pants ...styles that at times disturb me.  I'm just not as open to all of these expressions as some might be.  And in my limited world, without meaning to, without even being aware of it, I might judge or dismiss these individuals for being 'sucked in by the culture', or choosing a less desirable path.  I don't like to admit I do this ...but I do.  "Not my child," I've thought.  Even in the wake of Phoebe's death, I've found myself thinking those things.  Amazing and sad that I still do just that.  I've been judged, and known it ...and it hurts very deeply.  There is a great difference between offering guidance, a new perspective ...and just being judged because a person's way isn't as I think it should be.  Truth is, I'd take Phoebe tattooed and pierced, and wrap her in my arms.  So many things, once important, seem silly ...ridiculous, distractions that keep us away from the heart of each other.  I know this, but still, while I point my finger at the pierced and tattooed (or anyone else for that matter) for being sucked into the culture, I find several more fingers, from my own hand pointing back at me.  And it is there that I should shake my own head in discouragement ...not at someone else. 
So as I walk in, deep in thought, I look up to a smiling face, light bouncing off his big diamond earrings.  I tell him what I want ...and wait.  Two people are ahead of me waiting too, but mine comes first ...with a note.  My glasses aren't on, so I squint and the big workman ahead bellows "hey, you get a note.  I didn't get a note." The guy ahead of him chimes in "I didn't get a note either ...hey, what does it say."  My glasses are finally on and I read the thick dark ink that travels around the top of my cup ..."Don't forget to smile.  Have a nice day!" I look back at this young man who is beaming, ear to ear, still sparkling from those big diamonds and say "Thank you."  Everyone's laughing, and I say "It's true, I need to be reminded, life is better with a smile."  I walk out with two strangers, sleep still in all our eyes, the sun just beginning to lighten the sky ...and we're all smiling, wishing each other a great day.
When I arrive on my floor, the nurses and aides have had a long night, some challenges kept them busy and worried all night.  The nurse picks up my cup and reads it ....she asks me if I wrote that.  No, I tell her, the young man at the coffee shop did.  She gasps, "didn't that make you mad, I can't believe he did that."  "No, it made me smile."  And soon enough, with all the banter, everyone is smiling and laughing through report, the change of shift, we are inheriting the problems, the worries, the struggles.  "It's gonna be a great day!" I say. My fellow nurse, one of the young ones, with marks of the culture smiles back "yes it is!"  And it was.
I had decided a few weeks ago that I will meet Phoebe again with far more smile lines than frown lines.  I must have forgotten and this young man reminded me, helped me along.  
The power of a smile ...far more powerful than words, and far more contagious.  Smile today at someone, anyone, everyone for that matter.  Just smile.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen.