time to smile

there's this homeless man on the corner just across the street from my office.
he's there all day, every day. he never asks for money, instead he holds a sign and asks for a smile. all day long he holds this handmade circular white sign with the word SMILE written across the center in black ink. over the months he's decorated the sign with some gold squiggles around the edge. a few weeks ago, he added colored christmas lights. all day long he stands at this corner, shouting out "thank-yous" to all those who heed his request. people rushing to and from work, in and out of the coffee shop, to and from the ferry, in and out of the cross-walk.
people. strangers. connected by this mans request to simply SMILE.

last week as i stood waiting to cross to his side of the street, i see him and his flashing festive sign. only this time he's not alone. this time he's surrounded by a group of children standing around him. the children are singing to him, a woman is playing backup on the accordion and another woman stands with her arm around him. my eyes well up as a smile fills my face. each child is holding their own SMILE sign. it is truly the coolest thing i've seen in some time. with tear-filled eyes, i cross the street. i sit and listen to their songs and watch this man light up brighter than his sign. the kids all have their picture taken with him. the pride he felt, the exuberance of the children around him, all telling him of their signs with SMILE on one side and stories taped to the other. that day it was his turn to smile.

as i walk by him, hearing his "thank you" "have a good night" "thank you" fill the cold air and i think about his ability to, for a moment suspend the hurridness of strangers, all of whom are most likely heading home, (have a home) and probably much to smile about, and yet need this reminder to remember to pause and smile.