Compliments

Have you ever gone to meet a friends newborn, the baby everyone has been waiting for, and the moment you meet him/her the first thing that comes to your mind is how ugly the baby is? Well, there are some really ugly babies out there. Some change for good, some don’t. But regardless, you HAVE to give your friend compliments of her new baby because she loves it and it is not returnable. In those moments, you say things like, “wow, he is so big and strong!” or “look at how wide his eyes open, Im sure he will be really smart!” or “que graciosito!,”  which means friendly or nice. (Take notes, if you ever have a baby, and your friends avoid the word “cute” at all costs, you know there is a problem.)

The point is that people like compliments, whether it is about their babies or their shoes. For instance, how much does it suck when the first thing people tell you is that you look really tired? Whether you are tired or not, the fact that someone told you that you could look better already kills your mood a little. Luckily, receiving positive comments has the same psychological effect, but in a good way. One day my mother and I were in the train, an old homeless-looking man walks in and sits across from us. My mother, being the polite person that she is, gives him a half smile and continues to talk to me. Before the man got off the train, he approached her and told her she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. My mother was in the clouds, and smiled as hard as she could for the rest of the day to see if she would catch another compliment. “I bet if I had given him a full smile I would have blown his mind away!” she said.

Compliments are nice and everyone likes getting them. The best part is that the more you give, the more you receive! There is almost always something good to say about someone. Say it to them! Wouldn’t you want to hear it too?  

The Power of a Juicebox

Two girls were walking down the street, one was pretty, one was sleek. Kidding! Lol. That’s not how the story goes. Ok, here we go again:

Two girls were walking down the street on a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon. They were eating doughnuts and drinking juice.  It was noisy and busy out, as people in Santo Domingo tend to take Sunday afternoons to go out with the family. On their trip, the girls passed by two big malls, a bike shop, and several other commercial places, including an amusement park with a wax “ice” skating rink in the parking lot. The traffic was heavy, but fluid, and the sidewalks were full of children and their parents trying to get into the new “ice” skating sensation. It was crowded, there was loud music playing and cars blowing their horns, but the walk was pleasant nonetheless. It had been a while since the two friends had been together, especially in an environment so full of life.

As they walked further down the same road, the street got significantly less lively. They passed by a few banks and other closed businesses; there was neither music nor people, just cars and boys that cleaned the front glass of people’s cars for change. They passed a Haitian family walking towards the busy part of the road that seemed surprisingly happy (sadly, this is not a common scene in Sto. Dgo.), and a man painting the wall of a bank. The man was the first person either of the girls had seen working that day: he was sweating, breathing hard, and sitting on the floor next to the wall he was almost done painting. The girls made no comment about him, but soon after passing him, Juana turned around, took a small juice box out of a plastic bag, and offered it to the tired man saying: “Drink this, friend. You need a break.”  The man, with white paint on his hands and his face, took the juice with a pleasantly confused expression, and watched Juana walk away with her friend, Maria. Again, no comment was made about the situation even though the Maria seemed surprised.

The following week Juana slept over Maria’s house. On their way out to get a cab in the morning, Maria picked up the newspaper from outside the door and took it along (she was very serious about reading her own newspaper every morning). But that morning, instead of reading it as she normally did, she gave it to the cabdriver after arriving to their final destination. She later told Juana she had never done that before, but that seeing her share her untouched juice with the painter made her feel “fuzzy” and inspired her to do the same. Juana had no idea her interaction with the painter would impact anyone’s behavior, but it did, and maybe that of the painter too.

Names changed to protect the identity of those involved.

Smiling is Caring (because it rhymes!)

A few days ago, I was sitting in the front seat of my brother’s car. It was rush hour on a really hot, sunny day in Santo Domingo; one of those where no one wants to go outside because of the heat makes people sweaty, sticky, and irritated. My brother and I had to go to my aunt’s house to pick up my other brother, Piky. We were on a red light that had turned green four times but we hadn’t moved one inch in 20 minutes because a useless traffic agent (AMET) was directing the transit instead of the perfectly functional street light. The radio was on playing reguetón, my brother was leaning against his window and I against mine. We were both really miserable and barely spoke to each other – only once, to complain about picking up Piky…

While staring blankly out my hot window waiting for the AMET to let us move forward I spotted a little girl sitting under the sun, on the sidewalk watching the cars on the road. Her hair was messy, she was covered with dust from the road and not wearing much clothes. It was obvious that she was one of the local beggars of that road, but at that moment, it seemed as if she was taking a break from work; the sun was draining. When I saw her, she saw me too… I stared straight at her, not realizing what I was doing because I was still daydreaming, but her smile brought me back to reality. Yes, she smiled at me, for no reason! I had no choice but to smile back at her because…. I honestly don’t know. It was genuine and contagious, and it brought both joy and guilt to my heart. Why wasn’t I the one smiling at her?  I was sitting comfortably under the roof of a car on my way to somewhere; she was under the sun, in the street, with no plans to leave the dirty road. Why was she smiling? She was smiling because, as small as they may be, there are always things to be happy about. The little girl taught me a lesson and brought joy to my heart with just a smile. So I smile and hope that, like that little girl, my smile can plant happiness, satisfaction, or optimism in the heart of others.

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A little smile cheers up the heart, maintains a good mood, conserves peace in the soul, contributes to good health, beautifies the face, triggers good feelings, inspires behavior. Why not try it?

Count… the number of smiles that return yours in a single day. That number represents the time that you have planted a spark of happiness, satisfaction, optimism, or confidence in the heart of others. 

Your smile… can bring new life, hope, and courage to those who are tired, desperate, worried, or to those who just are.

-Translation from “El Secreto de la Sabiduría Humana”