Smiling all the day

 

Phil, the magic man

    The highlight of Christmas Day was our dinner out at the buffet just the two of us have gone to for the last decade or thereabouts.  Our favorite entertainer performs card tricks and other sleights of hand at the tables there, and we joke around, exchanging pats and hugs after all these years.  

     Besides a good meal—I enjoyed the butternut squash ravioli and beet citrus salad the most this time—, I chatted with other patrons and staff quite a bit.  I’m never shy with strangers.  The lovely blonde one table over had wonderful gold sparkles in her eyeshadow, which I complimented. A man surprised me as I walked past his table, saying, “I like your necklace.” My eyebrows shot up because my jacket was covering it.  “I saw it when you walked by the other way.”  “Oh.  Thank you.  I like it, too.  I thought you were going to say you liked my glasses,” replied I, wiggling them up and down, big smiles among me, him, his wife.  

     I was very touched by the exchange, it felt like spiritual code, because I was wearing the small red and green Mexican silver cross that sister D gave me years ago. It’s pretty and sentimental as well as symbolic; and I think I have given away all my “richer” crosses.

    Our server told me that she appreciated all the smiles from the ladies in her section, and I realized I had been smiling pretty much nonstop for 2 1/2 hours. Not a bad thing on Christmas Day.