Are you the smiler?

Today I went to Hammond to visit my grandpa in the nursing home.  As I walked into the building from my little comfortable world, I wasn’t expecting what I was about to encounter.  Immediately I felt as if I had walked into a war zone.  Despite the buzz of activity along the hallways and the workers moving like bees in and out of rooms helping patients, a feeling of doom, gloom and heaviness filled the air.  There were some patients with more freedom than others.  The ‘others’ were limited only because of their own lack in mobility.  A couple just laid in their beds crying out for help.  If you translated their cries of “help me”, it really meant “I just want someone, anyone, to talk with me…please.  I just want attention.”  What an experience!  It was my first time in such an environment.  I decided to make the best of it, so I did simply what I know to do…I brought my smile down the hall and began sharing it.

First was the aid that came in to feed my grandpa.  She entered the room with a serious expression, almost as if she expected me to complain to her.  I started asking all about her and lightened the air by telling her how special she was to work in such an environment.  The smile instantly became contagious.  She was now infected.  Next I targeted my grandpa.  He cannot hear well so smiling worked wonders with him.  He finally broke his silence by asking me “Are you the smiler?”  I replied “Yes” with another smile.  He said “I like it.”  Again, contagious.  After that, I observed the man sharing a room with my grandpa.  He had no company today (not sure if that was normal or unusual).  He (VERY SLOWLY I might add) got into his bed without one word, took a little power nap, and with the same amount of energy and words, put himself back into his chair.  Down the hall he went.  As I exited the room to leave the nursing home, I began smiling at everyone I passed.  It was as if people had not seen smiles in days or weeks, and didn’t know how to respond.  Upon reaching the front desk, there was grandpa’s roommate sitting all alone with such a blank expression.  I flashed a smile at him with a “have a good day”.  He lit up like a Christmas tree and nodded.  Again, the smile infection continued to spread.

On the drive home, God reminded me how smiling is such a simple and inexpensive gift to give.  In fact, it doesn’t cost a thing.  It brightens the day of everyone around so when you don’t think you have anything to give, you can always share one.  Never under-estimate the power of a smile.

Questions:   Am I leaving a trail of smiles?  How contagious am I?  What am I reflecting to others?

May the entire nursing home be infected with simple smiles Lord.  Fill the building with people overflowing with joy.  Let it be a place of hope and life Lord.  Bless the nurses that work there and the aids that daily take care of so many in their final days, weeks and months.  Pour Your presence and healing in those rooms God.