There was a girl I knew in High School. For the purpose of this story, I’ll call her Goldilocks.
Goldilocks was seemingly perfect. She had cascading golden hair, a bright smile and a sing song laugh that entered the room before she did. She had a bubbly air to her and was giddy all the time. In class, she was pleasant and helpful. In the hallways, she was complimentary and kind.
Always smiling, it seemed that Goldilocks was immune to pain and heartache: she was wide-eyed and oblivious to the hardships of life. I couldn’t stand Goldilocks. I resented her and her perfection. I seethed with bitterness every time she spoke to me. I judged her harshly for her cheery disposition.
I took comfort in the fact that Goldilocks would eventually be faced with the bleak realities of life. I assured myself that one day, Goldilocks would wake up and see life wasn’t all that great. One day, she would stop smelling roses and learn that life was full of suffering, something I had known too well.
Then I saw something that forever changed how I saw Goldilocks, and forever changed how I saw life.
In the school hallway, there was a plaque. The plaque was dedicated to a boy who died. This boy tragically died by suicide, at the hands of a hunting rifle he stole from his father. The plaque gave a message of hope: “Even when life is difficult, there are people who care, and there is still something to live for.” This boy was Goldilocks’ oldest brother, whom she lost when she was only 12 years old.
I cried as I read the plaque. I cried for Goldilocks and her family. But I also cried for me. How had I been so judgmental? How had I been so cruel to wish pain and suffering upon her? How had I been so critical, to resent someone for smiling?
My heart changed that day. I was humbled. I was ashamed.
I learned to never judge someone for being happy. I learned you never know what someone is going through. I learned that life is complex, and you never know the river of pain that lies beneath the grin.
I learned that kindness, above all else, is important, because you never know what someone is going through.
I learned that you can still choose to smile, even when it hurts.