Skip to main content

Beauty

 

                                                                                                                Artwork by Gerd Altmann

One time, my wife and I were out to eat at a nice restaurant. It was busy and we had to wait a bit to be seated. I noticed another couple, also waiting, who had decided to sit at the bar until their turn came. It was a young man and woman, probably both in their twenties talking and laughing. It was obvious that the young woman had been in a terrible fire at some point in her life. Her face was a mask of fire scarring that no amount of plastic surgery would ever put completely right. When you see the effects of such a tragedy, there is a natural feeling of sympathy. And who knows what the full story of that incident was. What injuries could I not see? Was anyone else hurt in the fire?

But my sympathy and pity were washed away by the sheer joy on her face. She was having a good time with the man she loved. You could feel the love. You could see it in her eyes, the elation of just being in the presence of the one she loved. I don’t know her story. I don’t really know anything about her. But her joy gave me joy. If she can feel such joy, what excuse do the rest of us have? How superficial was I being, to think that a person's looks should limit their bliss? Joy isn't determined by a person's looks or wealth, or status, or the clothes they wear. In this media frenzied world we live in, it is easy to forget that. Sometimes it takes a bit for something to sink into this thick head of mine, but I suddenly realized this woman was beautiful. 


Star Liner


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove

  Despite both of us having science backgrounds, my wife and I share a leaning toward the artistic, though we may express it in different ways. In her life, my wife has been a painter, a poet, a singer, an actor, and a fiction writer. Not to mention a mother. I don’t remember what precipitated this event, but my wife, my son, and I were at home in the front room. My wife was responding to something my son said. She said, “remember, you get half your brains from me. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a complete idiot.” To which my son started howling with laughter and said to me,” I think you have just been insulted.” Sometimes I feel like Rodney Dangerfield. I get no respect. But that is not an uncommon state of affairs for fatherhood. When my son was going to middle school and high school, my wife was always the one to go in with him to get him registered for classes. One time she was unable to go and I had to be the one to get him registered. “Ugh,” he said. “why can’t Mama do i...
1 comment
Read more

Empathy

  Websters defines Empathy as: “the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another.” Empathy is what makes us human, though lord knows there are many humans who don’t seem to have any. A person without empathy is like a caveman, only concerned for himself. Selfish. It is a lack of community and by extension, a lack of the need for civilization. The person who lacks empathy can have a bit of community, but only with others exactly like himself. It seems like societies go through cycles of empathy and less empathy. Sometimes a single event can change the course of society. Prior to America’s involvement in WWII, the general feeling in America was not very empathetic. We had our own problems. We were still dealing with the lingering effects of the Great Depression, and had been for years. That kind of stress makes it hard to think of others. Hitler was slashing through Europe. He and his fol...
1 comment
Read more

A Deception

  I have a secret. I deceived my mother. Okay, it was like 50 years ago and she is gone now, but still . . .  I was generally a good boy. I did as I was told. My family lived a pretty strait-laced, middle-class, fairly conservative life. We were a G-rated family, well, until my older siblings broke the mold, but at this time, I was still in the mold. My friend Rich and I made a plan. Rich had asked me if I wanted to see Cabaret . He said he didn’t think much of Liza Minnelli, but he wouldn’t mind seeing her take her clothes off. We were like 13 years old and sex was ever-present on our minds as much as it was absent in our households. Cabaret was not rated R. It was rated PG. The ratings system has changed since that time. There was no PG-13; there was just the choice of G, PG, and R  (X was not an official rating).  Apparently the makers of Cabaret satisfied the ratings commission enough to escape an R rating, so it was PG.   There was therefore no law or ...
Post a Comment
Read more