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256 pages, Hardcover
First published October 5, 2021
The next day on the front porch, on my gray stucco house with a red door, was a package wrapped in blue tissue paper. A present! I unwrapped it: a plate full of cookies shaped like Stars of David. There was also a Hanukkah coloring book. It was not meant to be a nice present after all. My eyes burned with humiliation. I did not want to tell my mother.That kept me reading the book when I really wasn't enjoying it much. I'm on chapter 21 now and it's a bit of a slog. Nothing happens, the author googles remedies and muses on the droop of an eye and mouth, which I appreciate is incredibly difficult to live with in a world where all, women especially are judged instantly by their looks even by people who say they never do that. We all do it.
I thought for a while about the time it would have taken my Sunday school compatriots to buy Star of David cookie cutters and bake those cookies. Baking requires effort; it was not an impulsive act of hatred but a planned one. What causes someone to bake hatred into cookies, walk those cookies to someone else’s front porch, and cross the threshold, with hate?
“Ten years ago, my smile walked off my face, and wandered out in the world. This is the story of my asking it to come back.”
Can one experience joy when one cannot express joy on one’s face? Does the smile itself create the happiness? Or does happiness create the smile?
imperfection is a portal. Whereas perfection and symmetry create distance. Our culture values perfect pictures of ourselves, mirage, over and above authentic connection. But we meet one another through the imperfect particular of our bodies.
Lucky the laugh lines and the smile lines especially: they signify mobility, duration, and joy.