A Smile Is a Beautiful Thing

When will this cold spell end? Very seldom did the mercury rise above freezing over the last six weeks in Haverhill. Does some power know we are in trouble from global warming and is helping us out with an extended season of arctic blasts?
Ellie and I ventured out for our daily walk at 7 a.m. since I would be otherwise letting my blood pool in lower extremities (I have two such) over 11 hours of flying. Not good for the heart.
Temp: 2 below zero. Brisk!
By 9 o’clock I have packed the luggage, assigned Dale Brown to the single way-back seat, and ushered the three women to the middle seat— Marilyn Allison, Jackie Chechowitz and Priscilla Hubley. Pastor Dale prays for safe travel. Turn up the car heat and Peter Ottes heads us east into the morning sun to deliver us to Logan.
The Conair/Delta shuttle is automated now, in the old Eastern Airlines concourse. Dale taps the touch screen a few times and – voila –all our names appear like magic. We are recognized!
Now think—this is a shuttle. Highly competitive no frills transport. When they open the gate, we go down on escalators to the tarmac, walk through a canopied tunnel, and then mount the steps to the plane. I haven’t done this in THIS country since 1955. It’s so Third World. And the plane is four abreast with 13 rows and tiny overhead lockers. I take my window seat. Dale slides in beside me.
In a minute a lovely young black woman informs Dale. “I have seat 7B—you are in my place.” “O no, replies the good parson,” showing his boarding pass. The flight attendant comes down to sort it out. She puzzles a while. It is 7B. (Light bulb*) “Mam, you are booked for the flight to Orlando!” She apologizes to Dale and squeezes upstream to walk the tarmac in another direction.
41 minutes in the air and we are JFK. Time for something eat by the time we fetch our luggage (first on last off for luggage, you know) and walk to Terminal 1.
Did you know McD’s has a chicken wrap sandwich now? We saved on our junk food limit enough to top off the meal with McD’s ice cream cones! It’s the last decent ice cream we are likely to see for awhile.
At JFK another screening drill. Marilyn for the second time is taken out for close inspection. That hip replacement of last summer makes the scan shriek. The rest of us have no problem, but a guy in the line with his arm in a sling makes the HUGE error of lipping off at the screener, who brooks no effrontery. He blows up big time. Soon a bunch of officers are in his face. “You will answer the questions or you will proceed no further!” Next they sit him down give him the third degree and finally allow him, properly chastened, to pass through.
On the boarding tunnel I quip, “So why are any of us going to Greece this time of year?” The couple next to me: “We’re going on the ‘footsteps of St. Paul tour.’” So here a few introductions start as we fly with 20 Episcopalians from “Lou-ah-vul” who are pilgrimaging with “Pastor Robin and his wife.”

THEN – the stewardess (oops, scratch that!) flight attendant who couldn’t smile. She was efficient. She knew her job. She never spilled on anyone. She was blonde (and some besides her hair-dresser DO know). But she just could not smile. Serving our aisle drinks several times, along with two meals, plus checking seat belts—lots of contact here. But not even one measly smile. We all know these girls (oops again!) ladies train long and hard. We know they are chosen for people skills. So what’s up with this one? Maybe its one those bad days?
I’ve been training myself lately not to judge people. So maybe she is in pain. Maybe the brass just gave her a notice. Maybe a loved one just died. I do not know—that’s for sure. So I’m letting it GO! It hasn’t diminished my experience at all. Why not think the best, offer a prayer for her, and cut her some slack as we used to say? She wasn’t at the door when we deplaned. So I smile at the other crew and mumble my gratitude We had a smooth flight and silky landing. I have nothing to complain about. So I don’t.
Then why am I writing about her? (I’ll rationalize to make myself feel better.) A smile is a beautiful thing. Whenever you can spare one, spare it. A smile can save a relationship; it can save a situation. It can save the day. It can even, sometimes, save a life. I need to keep smiling.

You know what it’s like to doze a dozen times on a long night flight? Dawn breaks over the Alps. I seen them before and it’s still awesome.

Athens by 8 .a.m. As we come through passport checkpoint Dale sees his name held up by a guy in black. Ari welcomes us and leads us to the next terminal for our flight to Thessaloniki.

Our hour-long hop north to Thessaloniki presents me with view of Mt Olympus, home of Zeus and his coterie of gods and goddesses, swelling up, snow-capped, above the clouds.

Soon our guide, George, escorts us to a bronze coach, German made, that looks like we are the first to be in it. New car smell. Windows with not a smudge or speck. Gleaming. We sit a good eight feet above the road.

Christoph, our driver, pulls this beauty through streets about the width of those in Boston’s North End. The rig turns almost in its own radius and obviously he knows where the “fenders” are. We all clap after a couple of his moves. This guy is good! I’d like to have a drive-off competition between him and Bill Hopkins, also a coach driver par excellence.

The afternoon stops.
1. A museum with great artifacts about the history of Macedonia—the homeland of Aristotle and his famous pupil, Alexander the Grape.
2. A monastery built in the 6th century over a holy site purported to be where Jason’s home was. See Acts for the story of how Jason got caught in a riot for housing Paul’s entourage. “Those who are troubling the whole world have come here, too!”
3. An orthodox church (also 6th century), the second oldest church in Greece, where George’s father is a priest. George sang a few bars from the liturgy to demonstrate the acoustics. What a voice; what a sound, surrounded by ancient mosaics of the ascension of Christ amid the apostles, plus the usual sumptuous gilded icons.

Our hotel is also brand new – a five star for sure, with free internet in every room. An hour to freshen up before an elegant dinner awaits us at 7:30.

So now it’s time for lights out and a REAL bed to sleep in.

I bid goodnight to you.

And remember, a smile is a beautiful thing—whenever you can spare one.