Searching for her smile
Twice a week she walked to the corner grocery store for warm donuts and coffee. She loved their donuts, none better in the whole city. She started walking on the advice of a friend who thought it might make her feel better. Her loneliness beginning to consume her. Her life dark and empty.
Heading home, she noticed an old man sitting on a park bench. She slowed and studied him, not remembering ever seeing him in her neighborhood. His expression was inviting. His skin aged and wrinkled while his eyes were spirited and a lively smile graced his face. Whatever he was thinking was bringing him great pleasure.
Sitting next to him on the bench, the lady asked, “Old man, may I buy your smile? Whatever you’re feeling is what I want to be feeling too.”
Turning to the lady, he said,“Why do you want my smile, where has yours gone?”
“My heart is broken. I doubt I will ever smile again,” she answered with a sigh as she leaned back, closing her eyes.
“This smile you see on me can’t be sold, so it can’t be bought either. A smile must be earned,” the old man said. “A broken heart is very sad.
Your smile must be far away.”
Opening her heavy eyes and looking into his she said, “Yes old man, my smile is far away. I lost it when my son died. He was just a little boy when a car went off the road and hit him when he was playing in our front yard. He died instantly. The last thing I remember is the horror on his face as the car crushed him.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the old man said, placing his hand on hers. “Life must be very difficult for you. How long has it been since your son
died?”
Her voice shaking she said,“My beautiful boy was taken from me five years ago. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday I saw him take his last
breath. At other times it feels like it’s been years. I can still feel his hugs when he headed off to school. His joyful voice continues to play in my
mind. I miss him so, so much. His death has at times overwhelmed me.” The lady leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. More tears came.
“I can see your pain is deep. Weren’t you once happy enough to smile,” the old man asked?
“Oh yes,” the lady said as she sat up. “When my son was alive my smiles were broad and many. He was a wonderful son, handsome and bright. I miss smiling. I want to smile again, but don’t know how.”
“Why did you say your son “was” wonderful,” he questioned? “Because he’s no longer here does that mean he’s no longer wonderful?”
“I’ve never thought of it like that old man,” she said, her voice a bit brighter. “I guess you’re right. Even though his body isn’t here, he “is” still a wonderful son.”
“With that in mind,” the old man said, “do you think of your son as forever dead or forever living?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed, “that’s a question I’ve never been able to answer.”
“Yes, that’s one to ponder,” he said. “Let me see if I can help you find that answer. I want you to close your eyes, think of your son and tell me what
you see.”
The lady leaned back on the bench, closed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. The old man saw her shoulders relax and hoped a good thing
would happen. A minute passed and a small smile came alive on her face. “I see him running down the beach,” she said, “his blonde hair flying in the wind
as he chases our dog. He’s running very hard. I can hear his laughter and see the sand flying.”
“How does that make you feel,” the old man asked?
“It makes me feel both sad and happy,” the lady answered. “I want him back so we can make more memories. I want to touch him, hold him and I’m sad I can’t do those things. But memories like that make me happy.”
“My friend,” the old man said. “I think you know your son will never be with you in the way you once had him before he died. His body can’t come back and nothing can change that. I know that’s a hard thing to acknowledge, so you must decide how you want to carry your son with you now. Which way will your memories take you, to a tear or a smile? Your son’s death has certainly earned you a tear, but your son’s life has given you a smile.”
Sitting quietly, the lady stared deeply into the old man’s eyes, trying to understand what he was saying. Trying to decide which will rule her life, the tear because of her son’s death, or the smile because of his life. The tear was easier because it had become normal and familiar. To smile again would take work.
“Old man,” she finally said,“which should I choose? You’ve lived long and learned many lessons, counsel me.”
“Dear sad lady, your son’s physical death cannot be changed. Time moves forward, not back,” he said. “I can see your love for him and feel your broken heart. Your love “is” strong, not “was” strong,” the old man offered. “When you closed your eyes, you saw your son’s life, not his death. Do you prefer his life or his death to be more powerful in you?”
It was then that the lady realized what the old man had done. He’d shown her that even though a part of her would always be sad because of her son’s death, she could also smile because of his life. In that instant she made the decision to begin to live again and work at finding her smile. The smile that can return because of the life of her child. A life that will live forever through her memories.
Hugging the old man she said, “Thank you my new friend, I will now work at letting go of my son’s death and seeing his life more clearly. I want the wonderfulness of him back with me and back in my heart.” She stood and began to leave, but turned, put her hand on the old man’s shoulder and asked, “Old man, how is it you came upon such wisdom? How did you know it’s possible for me to get my smile back?”
Reaching into his coat pocket, the old man pulled out an envelope. As he did so, the lady thought she saw the glint of tear in his eye, but also a gentle smile on his face. He stood and carefully withdrew a photo from the envelope. Cupping it tenderly in his hands, he showed it to the lady, “You see, my dear lady,” he began, “my beautiful angel daughter brought my smile back to me, so I know it’s possible for you also.”
The lady never saw the old man again, but in those few short minutes he taught her that the beauty and power of her son’s life will never leave her, if she won’t let it leave.
Twice a week she walked to the corner grocery store for warm donuts and coffee. She loved their donuts, none better in the whole city. She started walking on the advice of a friend who thought it might make her feel better. Her loneliness beginning to consume her. Her life dark and empty.
Heading home, she noticed an old man sitting on a park bench. She slowed and studied him, not remembering ever seeing him in her neighborhood. His expression was inviting. His skin aged and wrinkled while his eyes were spirited and a lively smile graced his face. Whatever he was thinking was bringing him great pleasure.
Sitting next to him on the bench, the lady asked, “Old man, may I buy your smile? Whatever you’re feeling is what I want to be feeling too.”
Turning to the lady, he said,“Why do you want my smile, where has yours gone?”
“My heart is broken. I doubt I will ever smile again,” she answered with a sigh as she leaned back, closing her eyes.
“This smile you see on me can’t be sold, so it can’t be bought either. A smile must be earned,” the old man said. “A broken heart is very sad.
Your smile must be far away.”
Opening her heavy eyes and looking into his she said, “Yes old man, my smile is far away. I lost it when my son died. He was just a little boy when a car went off the road and hit him when he was playing in our front yard. He died instantly. The last thing I remember is the horror on his face as the car crushed him.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” the old man said, placing his hand on hers. “Life must be very difficult for you. How long has it been since your son
died?”
Her voice shaking she said,“My beautiful boy was taken from me five years ago. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday I saw him take his last
breath. At other times it feels like it’s been years. I can still feel his hugs when he headed off to school. His joyful voice continues to play in my
mind. I miss him so, so much. His death has at times overwhelmed me.” The lady leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. More tears came.
“I can see your pain is deep. Weren’t you once happy enough to smile,” the old man asked?
“Oh yes,” the lady said as she sat up. “When my son was alive my smiles were broad and many. He was a wonderful son, handsome and bright. I miss smiling. I want to smile again, but don’t know how.”
“Why did you say your son “was” wonderful,” he questioned? “Because he’s no longer here does that mean he’s no longer wonderful?”
“I’ve never thought of it like that old man,” she said, her voice a bit brighter. “I guess you’re right. Even though his body isn’t here, he “is” still a wonderful son.”
“With that in mind,” the old man said, “do you think of your son as forever dead or forever living?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed, “that’s a question I’ve never been able to answer.”
“Yes, that’s one to ponder,” he said. “Let me see if I can help you find that answer. I want you to close your eyes, think of your son and tell me what
you see.”
The lady leaned back on the bench, closed her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. The old man saw her shoulders relax and hoped a good thing
would happen. A minute passed and a small smile came alive on her face. “I see him running down the beach,” she said, “his blonde hair flying in the wind
as he chases our dog. He’s running very hard. I can hear his laughter and see the sand flying.”
“How does that make you feel,” the old man asked?
“It makes me feel both sad and happy,” the lady answered. “I want him back so we can make more memories. I want to touch him, hold him and I’m sad I can’t do those things. But memories like that make me happy.”
“My friend,” the old man said. “I think you know your son will never be with you in the way you once had him before he died. His body can’t come back and nothing can change that. I know that’s a hard thing to acknowledge, so you must decide how you want to carry your son with you now. Which way will your memories take you, to a tear or a smile? Your son’s death has certainly earned you a tear, but your son’s life has given you a smile.”
Sitting quietly, the lady stared deeply into the old man’s eyes, trying to understand what he was saying. Trying to decide which will rule her life, the tear because of her son’s death, or the smile because of his life. The tear was easier because it had become normal and familiar. To smile again would take work.
“Old man,” she finally said,“which should I choose? You’ve lived long and learned many lessons, counsel me.”
“Dear sad lady, your son’s physical death cannot be changed. Time moves forward, not back,” he said. “I can see your love for him and feel your broken heart. Your love “is” strong, not “was” strong,” the old man offered. “When you closed your eyes, you saw your son’s life, not his death. Do you prefer his life or his death to be more powerful in you?”
It was then that the lady realized what the old man had done. He’d shown her that even though a part of her would always be sad because of her son’s death, she could also smile because of his life. In that instant she made the decision to begin to live again and work at finding her smile. The smile that can return because of the life of her child. A life that will live forever through her memories.
Hugging the old man she said, “Thank you my new friend, I will now work at letting go of my son’s death and seeing his life more clearly. I want the wonderfulness of him back with me and back in my heart.” She stood and began to leave, but turned, put her hand on the old man’s shoulder and asked, “Old man, how is it you came upon such wisdom? How did you know it’s possible for me to get my smile back?”
Reaching into his coat pocket, the old man pulled out an envelope. As he did so, the lady thought she saw the glint of tear in his eye, but also a gentle smile on his face. He stood and carefully withdrew a photo from the envelope. Cupping it tenderly in his hands, he showed it to the lady, “You see, my dear lady,” he began, “my beautiful angel daughter brought my smile back to me, so I know it’s possible for you also.”
The lady never saw the old man again, but in those few short minutes he taught her that the beauty and power of her son’s life will never leave her, if she won’t let it leave.