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I first noticed Jenny as she bagged my groceries at the local Safeway one day. She has the bone-china face of a Lladro angel with their trademark elongated eyes, dark, bound-back hair and guileless smile. Her Down's Syndrome gives her an innocence I rarely see in a young woman of her age. Her joy in life seems boundless and there is always a happy word for everyone.
Last Friday, harried as usual, I made an emergency stop to pick up a quick and easy meal for the evening, only to face a chorus of, "Hi! You want to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?" I mumbled something about buying them from my niece and began trying to figure out how I would be able to sneak back out and avoid adding to my ample hips as well a forking over $3.50 for a measly handful of cookies.
As I paid for my groceries, the adolescents out front started a chant, complete with dance moves. I cringed inwardly. God, they were cheerleaders as well. The estrogen levels could not be higher anywhere else on earth at this moment. The 4 blonds heads came together as they giggled, then they started another cheer. They were blindingly perfect girls, inheriting the throne from the ones a generation before that made life miserable for us plainer Janes. The ones we detested as they refused to acknowledge us as anything other than a lower life form.
And then I saw Jenny.
She was sitting on a motorized cart and she was enthralled as she watched the girls dancing and shining in the cool mountain afternoon. Her eyes glistened with the sheer joy of watching the unbridled enthusiasm before her; her grin stretched from ear to ear. There was no sign of longing or envy. Not a hint on that open, serene face to show she felt left out or envious of never fitting into their golden world of popularity and opportunity. She was simply enjoying them with undiluted, honest happiness.
In an abrupt tsunami of revelation, I realized that the truly gifted one on the sidewalk that afternoon was Jenny. Not the girls with their noblisse oblige that comes from beauty and position. Not me, with my sardonic humor. Jenny is blessed with the ability of secure acceptance. She has the absolute certainty of who she is, of her delight in who others are and the calmness of spirit that keeps her from wanting to be anything other than Jenny.
I stood to one side for some time, watching Jenny watch the Girl Scouts and soon I found myself seeing them through Jenny's eyes. Creatures of beauty and gaiety, no more responsible for their good luck than I had been in having to work harder for that place in the world I now occupy. I found myself smiling along with Jenny as we enjoyed the show until the next customer stopped to buy their cookies. And later, as I drove off, I found myself biting into my first Thin Mint of the season.
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