The Smallest Littlest Thing could leave a Mark.

Ashley - Blue Springs, Missouri
Entered on December 15, 2008
Age Group: Under 18
Themes: setbacks

The beach is surrounded with people. Thin, small, large and tall, they are all here. The salty air fills everyone’s lungs. The sand between my toes sinks in and reminds me of my childhood sandbox days. Small talk is being made between all the resting women. The sea water sloshes against the large black rocks. Amateur surfers enjoy puny waves. Each and every person seems to be enjoying themselves.

Every move I make is planned ahead of time. The steps I take will be small so no crabs will pinch my toes today. My hands will go from pocket to hair so my wind blown hair will no longer be that. My face is stuck. A grin from ear to ear inhabits the lower half and my eyes wander the open ocean.

Smiles seem like such a small thing. The way you give them can be extremely joyful or just a humorous smirk. The way you receive it can be grateful or even odd. Smiles can make an hour, moment, or even lifetime. Such a little thing can leave a mark. That’s why I believe you should always wear one of these tricky things and perceive it at its best.

One woman is fully clothed with no bathing suits or covers in hand, just jeans and a short sleeved t-shirt. It’s an unusual thing to be seeing in the middle of summer, let alone a beach, but I treat her with the same respect as my fellow beach-goers.

A smile is given. A glance is received. Her eyes look like rocks, heavy and unemotional. Her body seems to be propped up by an invisible pole sticking out of the sand. The mannerisms do not seem joyful but as if she is an automatic robot. She walks off just before a slight forced smile.

At this point I’m in my beach chair, immobile and letting the sun grace my skin. The morning men and women have been replaced by adventurous surfers heading towards the sea, ready to catch monstrous waves. Children chase crabs, teenage girls chase boys. Suddenly, the sun is blocked by a some what familiar figure over my relaxed environment.

It’s the lady, except this time she is in regular beachwear. Her eyes aren’t as heavy and her back isn’t as bent. Her mouth opens and closes as if she is urging to say something but not before calculating the cluster of words.

“Sorry to bother you but, when you smiled at me earlier this morning, I realized that someone out there cares. Thank you, you saved my life. Thank you.”

My mouth stayed propped open as the self-confident lady paraded by. It is as if she had found a gift that no money could buy. She now knew the smallest littlest thing could make a mark. The mark would prevent self-destruction of a doubtful woman who deserved more.