A Smile Matters

by Carolyn Y. Rickman

It was the fall of 1955 and I was employed in my first job after high school. I would often park on a street bordering the Missouri State Governor's Mansion. If early, until time for work I would stay in the car reading or just enjoying the autumn colors of the trees and bushes on the beautiful grounds surrounding the mansion.

Because of the extensive leaf raking that time of year, there were often trustees from the nearby prison working around the mansion. It saddened me to see others walk past the prisoners looking straight ahead or with eyes averted so as not to acknowledge their presence. The trustees were not allowed to initiate conversation with people on the street; still they were human beings worthy of some sign of recognition.

Since I was too shy to speak, I simply smiled as I passed any of the prisoners. It was heart-warming to see their eyes light up as they returned the smile, none of us speaking a word.

At that time in history one never thought of locking car doors; so, I was surprised rather than concerned when one evening after work there was a package wrapped in newspapers on the seat of the car. And even more surprised when I unwrapped it to find a beautifully hand-carved leather purse. Who would have left such a gift?

As I admired the delicate detail of the designs I suddenly realized where the gift must have come from. I knew there were leather tooling classes for some of the prisoners; it had to be from one of the trustees. Since the trustees finished their work on the grounds before noon there was no one there at that moment to give any indication of an answer to my puzzle.

I was eager the next morning to reach my parking spot. And as I did one of the trustees who had been there regularly for several weeks was raking leaves near my car. He glanced my way as I parked and gathered my things to walk to the office. When I stepped onto the sidewalk with the beautiful purse in hand a smile as wide as the nearby Missouri River crossed his face. He was obviously the giver of the gift. Returning his smile I softly said, "Thank you!" He gave only a small nod of his head in response, but the expression on his face showed he was pleased. Touching the delicate design on the purse, I added, "It's beautiful!" Then, because there was nothing more I could say, I turned and walked to the office like every other day.

Because the work on the mansion grounds was obviously completed I never saw the giver of the gift or any of the trustees again. And in December I left my job to attend college in another town.

That was 48 years ago. I still have the purse. It is well worn now, not shiny new as it was then. But it remains one of the best gifts I ever received. Because each time I see it I'm reminded all over again of the power of a simple smile.

And I like to think that a smile can lift anyone's day. We are all prisoners of something. Perhaps we're restrained by our fears of venturing into the unknown, perhaps we're hesitant to extend our lives because of what others might think or maybe we're prisoners of our own inertia - too comfortable or too tired to peek beyond the horizon of our daily lives.

No matter what might be confining others we meet, a smile can reach through real fences as well as fences of the mind to touch the human spirit. Then, if only for the briefest moment, that soul may soar to heights of freedom only longed for when smiles have faded away.

So, give generously of your smiles. One never knows whose soul might be touched by such a simple act. Then the reward will be much greater than any tangible gift when you find your day brightened by another's response to your own warm smile. © 2003

Note: Carolyn Rickman is a freelance writer who lives in Hilton.