Many moons ago, I managed the laundry of the Prince of Wales Hotel in Alberta, Canada.  I coached several teenagers in doing an excellent job on sheets and towels.

One young man, whom I’ll call Bill, was tall, handsome and strong.  Just what a typical girl wants.  Or maybe not.   I saw Bill as emotionally flat.  His voice didn’t vibrate.  His mouth didn’t curl up at the corners.

So young, so dead … such a shame.  I hope that Bill’s future showed him a wiser way, where words like sunshine, giggle and Wow! made an appearance.

I remember being sad.  Bill worked hard.  His performance was never a problem.  But …

***

And then there was “Beatrice”, a woman probably in her 80’s.  It seemed like her mouth was perpetually open – in wonder.  Life showed wide for her, and she embraced it tenderly, passionately.  She knew yes and not much no, good and not much bad.  “Ain’t it wonderful!?”

When I think of Beatrice, two other women come to mind:

Helen Keller

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing

Mary Oliver

When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement

(from her poem “When Death Comes”)

***

Bill and Beatrice.  A mystery. 

Now I’m remembering a poster from my youth: on the left a wide-eyed young kid, smiling.  On the right a down-and-out old man.  And the words …

What happened?

***

I get confused so easily