Whether by leaving gifts in unexpected places or sharing a smile with a stranger, we can soften the harshness of our world
Last year at the public library I ran across a Japanese book on how to make tiny dogs out of pipe cleaners. I was charmed. The amusing illustrations and photographs showed Dalmatian puppies ear to ear, tails in the air; a pug playing with a pompom; and a Chihuahua rolling on his back. Soon I was in the checkout lane at Hobby Lobby, giving up my dollars to white and brown pipe cleaners. I couldn’t wait to wrestle the fuzzy wires into a fit-in-my-palm Boston terrier.
Not long afterwards, I was packing for an international trip and decided to throw a few pipe cleaners into my purse. I had a layover at JFK and wanted something to pass the time besides reading. As I sat at the terminal watching planes taxi on the tarmac, I wound and bent white pipe cleaners into a little dog, then snapped a shot of him standing on my suitcase, as you see here. When the announcement came to board, I almost put him in my pocket when a better thought occurred. I’d leave him right there on the window ledge, to catch the eye of some unsuspecting traveler. The thought made me smile, and don’t we need to share more of those?
Over the last year, smiling at strangers has become my new mission in public. With so many hateful words and plugged ears, we don’t seem to be noticing or even listening to each other anymore. A smile is sabotage; it’s unexpected. As a 65-year-old woman with mainly-white hair, it’s been a low-risk mission. I couldn’t have gotten away with it when I was younger since I might have seemed flirtatious. But at my age, it’s like getting a smile from a grandma. Which I am, come to think of it.
“He makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust,” Jesus says of his heavenly Father. God’s goodness pervades this world even though we often miss it. Breaking news (is it called breaking because it interrupts a broadcast or because it breaks our hearts?) reports the latest crimes of Homo sapiens while the planet itself creaks and groans. Floods, hurricanes, fires, and drought remind us that this world is growing old. “All creation is groaning in labor pains,” Paul writes in Romans. Like us, it’s held captive to decay and the curse.
While that’s the bad news, there’s a great deal of good to be shared. As God gives sun and rain to all, Christians can likewise be generous in spreading warmth (sun) and refreshment (rain) wherever we go. Smiles do both. We’ve all seen “a sunny smile,” and we’ve all received a smile that caused us to experience a moment of grace. A genuine smile makes us feel better, for “a happy heart is good medicine,” the Proverbs contend, both to giver and receiver. Have you ever stood in a check-out line and noticed the child in the cart in front of your is smiling at you? Without thinking, you return it. Psychology Today reports that smiles are so contagious that, according to a Swedish study, it takes a conscious effort not to smile back. It’s good medicine, and our hearts need it.
Only a real smile will do, and psychologists note that we’re remarkably perceptive at recognizing a fake smile—we’re born with good radar on that account. In a sincere smile, known as a Duchenne smile for the man who studied it, the eyes light up. By contrast, a smile that is forced or condescending appears only on the mouth; it’s a “smile for the camera.” Even more fascinating, the muscles that cause the eyes to light up, the orbicularis oculi, cannot be controlled. These involuntary muscles lift the cheeks (and give us crow’s feet). This is an unconscious action that can’t be forged.
Of all people, the Christian has something to smile about. We know what comes next. The world is not reeling on some collision course with the universe; it’s groaning and waiting for Christ’s return. We have so much to look forward to. Really, everything.
As we wait, we can afford to share a smile with our waitress or store clerk or a receptionist in an office. We can put down the phone, look the person in the eye, and chose engagement. For me, the smile begins in my mind, warms my heart, and finally reaches my face. I think, “Here before me is a human being created by God, in his image. God ordained that our paths would cross, right now, in this moment. This stranger has heartaches I know nothing about, but here they are: serving me, taking care of me, or traveling beside me. God help me to see this in-your-image human, a fellow pilgrim, and to share a genuine smile.”