The most beautiful FACE

This happened in the cold, wet county of Lancashire, England, during the colder, wetter winter of 1974-75. Thirty-five years on, I still recall that face as vividly as if I'd seen it yesterday. The feelings it rouses have never faded.

Appropriately, the place was called Waterfoot. You could not step anywhere without your shoes soaking up the ankle-deep icy slush that had been snow, which was now combining with the drizzly rain that was in your face whichever way you turned.

This was my lunch-break escape from the Dickensian office I worked in at the time. Had it been summer, there might have been the uplifting vision of some pretty, young, mini-skirted secretary escaping momentarily from her office. But in wintry Waterfoot, every type of "bird" flew south long before winter set in. There was nothing in this tight neck of the Rossendale Valley, surrounded by the steep faces of dark moors: a "black hole" if ever there was one.

Then there she was, coming out of the post office:

• Age: probably 60ish, though she looked twice that.
• Figure: fat and round, judging by the outline of the unwashed rags she was wrapped up in.
• Facial features: I can think of no kind description.

Now, you'll be thinking that either I'd become bottom-of-the-barrel desperate, or maybe there is something I'm not telling you about that face ... so I'll tell you.

You see, as she emerged from the post office, that "old witch" was tucking something she had just bought into an envelope. I could see it was a card, bright and gaudy. I guessed it was a birthday card for her grandchild.

As the old lady took a last look at the card, her face lit up with the love she felt for her little treasured one. As she imagined the excitement her little angel would soon be enjoying, her own appearance became radiantly angelic.

In that moment, the old lady had the most beautiful face in the world. The light that shone from it was powerful enough to free me from the prison of that dire day. A year later, I was actually strolling down a Los Angeles beach, and not even then did I feel so warm.

* * * * *

Beautiful lady, whoever you were, wherever you are,
THANK YOU.
May your radiant light touch everyone who reads this,
and return to you a hundredfold.

* * * * *

Many people tell me they think that the point of this story is that true beauty is more than skin deep. Well yes ... but the enduring effect of that moment makes me feel it goes even deeper. And I think it is this: make the effort.

Just a little smile, just one kind word or even a gentle thought ... make the effort. We never know: the ripples from it could go on for decades. And we have the opportunity to make those ripples hundreds of times every single day.