THE SMILE

The feeling of Christmas is in the air. People are shopping for those special gifts for everyone on their list. At least one hundred booths are lined up, displaying various items.

A young woman enters the craft show, wearing a shimmering as-if-dusted-with-stardust white dress and a holly-wreath pin on her left shoulder.

Just inside the entrance is a table that catches her eye with it's display of five attractive books. She does a double take as if she recognizes the man sitting behind the table, but says nothing.

Sitting center stage on three metal display frames are Treasured Memories, Rockin Chair Cowboys, and The Caregiver's Story. On each side, Reflections and Ribbons and Roses, the two poetry/prose books lay. Balancing out the table is promotional material, consisting of business cards, bookmarkers, flyers and a few other speciality items.

As she glances at the table and starts to pass, he says, "Merry Christmas," and hands her a bookmarker. As their eyes meet he thinks to himself...she looks very familiar. She reminds me of someone...but this woman is much younger.

"Thank you. What a lovely bookmarker," the young woman says.

"My very talented writing partner, makes them. She's also a photographer and is responsible for all the covers you see on these books...with the exception of this one. He points to The Caregiver's Story.

"Oh, my; she's very good." She picks up the book Ribbons and Roses with the cover of a rose, small picture frame, and potpourri...all resting on some lace fabric.

"Do you like poetry or prose?" He asked. She doesn't respond. Perhaps she didn't hear?  She slowly turns the pages of the book, letting her hand rest occasionally. A story titled "Red and Green Tissue Paper" catches her eye.

She begins reading silently to herself. Was it his imagination or does there seem to be a glow about her head...almost like a halo. It's only the lightening, he reasons to himself.

"Oh, this reminds me of the stories my grandmother told me of when she was a young girl, living with her parents in the country." A smile crept across her lips and her blue eyes had a sparkle in them. "How much is this book?"

"Sixteen dollars...or any two books for thirty, or any three for forty-three." She picks up several other display books and looks through them.

"I know my daughters would love these books of short stories and I would like this one," she said, holding out the book with the "tissue" story.

The excited booth operator, and author, is pleased to have made a sale. After collecting the forty-three dollars, he asks, "How would you like them autographed?"

"If you would be so kind to inscribe this one to Mary, the other to Annie. That would be wonderful."

Sitting at the table, the local author inscribs the two books and then reaches for the book in her hand. "What about that one?" He knows it is for the women standing in front of him; he just doesn't know her name.

"Helen. Make it to Helen," she says.

Hearing that name sends a tingle through his spine. He once knew a wonderfully sweet lady named Helen. She used to sit next to him in church. However, Helen was much older than this woman, and she no longer walked this planet...but streets of gold. She now breathed celestial air, and sang in a choir of angels.

With shaking hand, Joseph writes "To Helen...Your presence today blessed me. May joy fill your heart upon reading this book. Best Wishes, Joseph A. Zapalac"

The angelic lady turn to walk away when he picks up a ribbon rose from the table, "Wait. I want you to have this rose."

She turns and reaches her hand to take the pastel pink ribbon rose. She smiles. It's then that he notices...it's Helen's smile.

~Vada