Agressive Kindness

Ana loved to smile. In fact, love was an inadequate description for her feelings on the matter. She often wondered if her mother had been right in her youth, that her face had frozen that way. Regardless, at rest, the muscles in her face naturally crested the arches of her cheek bones. When she walked down the street in the mornings, she stared into peoples faces, head-on, unadulterated glimpses into their moods and minds. She saw frowns as challenges. Opportunities for evangelism into her view on the world. She was tireless in her attempts to make others smile. She was a Jehovah’s Witness of expressions, taking every headlong glance on her morning commute as an opportunity to preach her way of life without word. A bright exuberance was her Watchtower, eye contact her knock on the door.