Everyday I walk pass Mrs. WAlker’s house on my way to school. Everyday, whether sun or rain, she’s in her chair rocking back and forth, back and forth. On a sunny day I can find her head back, eyes closed, soaking in the brilliant rays. On a rainy day she’s wrapped in her gray shawl, eyes wide open shining in amusement with every silver drop that falls. Everyday I wave and say “Hello Mrs. Walker,” and everyday her Mona Lisa smile widens in return. Her sun-kissed skin and laughter lines tell of adventures once had, memories once shared, secrets once kept. The sparkle in her eyes warns of mischievous times and a youth who’s fun has not yet ended. I try to imagine the reasons behind her smile, the stories behind her grin. Of course it would start with a happy, love-filled childhood, magical and mysterious. The young child steadily growing into girlhood. Making friends, playing in the mud. The sweet, innocent girl growing into a young woman. Doing her hair, still occasionally playing in the mud. A young woman falling in love. Flashing a sly smile or teasing with her glinting emerald eyes. The woman in love getting married in white. Having children, watching her children have children. Then, watching her grandchildren have children. Now here was are, in the present. Where she sits with her Mona Lisa smile, full on life content with all. She is ready for what lies beyond.

Everyday I walk past an empty porch on the way to school. I think of an old woman who soaked up sunshine and watched the rain. In those moments I hope I grow up to wear a Mona Lisa smile.