Smile
 

Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies.
Psalms 27:11
My father had died; Mom, who was seventy-eight, had to "sell out." Now the auctioneer was chanting, selling the tools Dad used when he was a carpenter. Now the wall telephone!

There was a millstone in my chest. A sting in my eyes. Then I saw it—on a table with odd saucers, fruit jars, lamps, and linens. The poem. As long as I could remember the little gold-framed poem had hung in my girlhood room. Now it spoke to me again:

Every one who loves you loves to see you smile.
Loves to see you cheerful and happy all the while.
Smiling is so easy, do not wear a frown.
If you feel one rising always smile it down.

Picking up the poem I held it close, then put it in my handbag, suddenly overcome with gratitude for small memories that can be tucked away in life’s treasure chest and brought out occasionally to comfort us.
by Zona B. Davis