But no, I decided, too impersonal and detached. Same with my rather whimsical idea of wrinkling my nose aka Samantha in “Bewitched.” When I’m ready to bestow this newfound magic, I need to do it up front and personal. I was rather proud of my new powers, so I wanted to share them in as pleasant and friendly a way as possible.
So my smile became the vehicle for my magic.
Before describing these magical powers, I should explain how I obtained them. Well, I wish I could. I went to bed one night, crabby and disillusioned with the world. Life is such a joy and a privilege, why, I wondered, did people take it on as a chore and a bore? I had had it with unhappy, unpleasant human beings.
I thought about what a coup it would be if I could somehow change people’s perspective. Let them see the colors instead of the black and white; the rainbow instead of the rain; the butterflies instead of the cocoons.
I woke up the next morning with the power. How did I know I had it? Another good question. I just knew. And once I decided how to use it, the best day of my life began.
I drove to the local cafe, as usual, and ordered my double non-fat latte with foam, double cupped, no top. Joe, the scar-riddled, gray-faced man behind the counter, looked at me as he always did at 6:45 on Monday mornings and said, as he always did, “We don’t double cup.”
“Beautiful morning,” I replied, as I always did.
Then it happened. I smiled. He looked at me as if he’d been slapped with a feather. He gazed out the large window in the front of the store and nodded his head. “You know, it is a beautiful morning. The sun came up in lavender, pinks, and blues today. An amazing sight.”
Then he double cupped my latte, smiled at me as if he meant it, and said, “Have a great day.”
I bounced out of there with a song in my heart. Yeeeessssss. I drove to my job, thinking of all the people I would smile at. They’d be hit hard. No longer would they find something wrong with their boss or their spouse or their kid or their car or their bus commute or their tight pants or their broken fingernail or their crab-grassed lawn. They would have to see the beauty in every single blooming thing in their life. They’d feel joy. They’d feel love. They’d see the light instead of the dark.
I looked at myself in the car’s rearview mirror and smiled. Gazaam! The song “Good Morning Starshine” came bursting out of my mouth, and I knew I had been blessed with something more powerful than power.
I had magic – in my smile.
Thanks to Google Images. Except for the sunrise. The sunrise is all mine.