How often do you smile during the day? Do you ever really take any notice of how often you smile or who you smile at? Do you notice if anyone smiles at you? How many times do we make a comment to a friend or partner if during the day we have been served in a shop, a bar or a restaurant and the person serving us smiled! We noticed that someone smiled!!! Isn’t it sad that smiles can be so rare that we notice when we are on the receiving end of one.
Smiles light up your face, the very action of smiling means you can’t feel sad, the smile makes you feel that little bit happier. What’s more is that smiling is infectious. When you smile, nine times out of ten, you’ll get a smile back. You have spread a smile, spread a little happiness and perhaps spread a little kindness to someone who really needed it.
When you are getting ready to go out, don’t forget to put on your smile, you are never really fully dressed without it and if you give it away, it won’t cost you anything and you always have another smile waiting to takes its place.
My Mom often tells me of times when she was a small girl and she walked the land in the evenings with her grandfather. He taught her how to read the sky and foretell the weather. As I have grown up, Mom has shown me various clouds, the way the sun is setting, the direction the wind is blowing and of course, the different phases of the moon…but I cannot forecast the weather like Mom can! Most nights if we have a clear sky, we look up in the sky for the moon. Since childhood I have watched the moon, a comforting moon, a scary moon, a warm moon a Winter moon shining brightly at Christmas. Recently I read a book which included the following poem by Max Ehrmann which really resonated with Mom and I, because we love the moon…
I would, if I could, bring back into fashion the moon and the stars, the dawn and the sunset.
I rarely hear anyone speak of them. One would think these perpetual wonders had passed from sight.
There is peace and rest in the contemplation of these miracles that nature paints on the canvas of the sky.
Tonight I looked at the moon for a while. There was a faint circle around it.
A friend came by and asked what I was looking at. I pointed to the moon. ‘I don’t see anything.’ ‘The moon,’ I said.
He chuckled and went on, he will report me from growing queer.
The mystery of the night! And our own mystery!
Who knows what we are? No science has yet grapsed us. The moon – the beautiful, mystical moon, playing nightly to empty seats!
I wonder how many people never look at the moon and I wonder how many look at the moon but never really see it.