The Eternal Smile

When I was a baby, I slept the entire day and kept my parents up all night. The term "colic" was unheard of in the 70s. The doctor claimed I was in the process of 'developing'. My parents came home and took turns watching me--groggy, irritable and sleep-deprived. As they rocked me, they would check to see if I was asleep.
But I just looked back, smiling.

When I was two years old, I had no teeth, could not speak or barely walk. After the tenth visit to the pediatrician, the same doctor yelled at my parents and claimed I was still 'developing' and quite notably, speaking some strange alien language only understood by neigborhood pets.
But I just smiled my toothless smile.

When I was four years old, I constantly disobeyed my father. Leaving the house in the morning, only to be returned by neighbours after sunset. I could not sit still. A new doctor told my parents that I was not hyperactive and suggested to change my diet. When my father would say NO, I would unabashedly question WHY? My defiance silenced him.
But I just smiled, removed my clothes and ran naked down the street.

When I was ten years old, I had a uni-brow, moustache, crooked teeth, and a complexion so dark that you could see the whites of my eyes and teeth at night.
I was the only minority in a vastly caucasian neighborhood where the kids picked on me based my physical appearance. When they shoved me off my bike, pelted me with snowballs, ostracized me from social circles and threw out racial remarks, I often wondered why God made me so different.
But I just smiled and beared it.

When I was thirteen years old, mouth full of metal, decorated with goggles and equipped with a fast wit, I exasperated my enemies by challenging them with intelligence. "Go back to your country!" they would demand. I would laugh and tell them that brown people were here before they were (of course, I was talking about the natives) but this would perplex them and out of embarresment, they still beat me up.
But I just smiled, and as the fists flew, I wore my physical scars like a badge of honour while hiding my emotional ones.

When I was fifteen, and told of what I could not do or be, I retreated into my cocoon. I relied heavily on my imagination of what I could be. Defeated, I gave up pieces of myself to make others whole. Only mothers can think of the future because they give birth to it in their children. And she tenderly picked up my pieces, purposely mixed them up and put me back together. I emerged from the cocoon and allowed them to see my true colours. Colours of sadness, anger, hope, hurt, pride, inner beauty and acceptance.
And I smiled as I opened and displayed my transparent wings.

When I was eighteen, I was a boat, lost in an angry sea -- without an anchor.
And I smiled back, when she waved down to me and smiled her eternal smile.

This smile has stayed with me all my life, through thick and thin, in ups and downs. Its an eternal smile of wisdom and patience. And I have learned that to receive all that is good in life, we must endure all that is bad. The smile may grow weary at times but its contagious and infectious.

And when you wake up tomorrow morning and come across a stranger (who may be enduring the bad) never think twice about sharing your smile. It may just help them be whole again...