My 101-year-old bundle of sunshine

Today I was feeling kind of grumpy, or as my mom used to say, maybe I got up on the wrong side of the bed. It's been raining on and off for a week (wasn't summer supposed to start on the 21st?) and it's been so chilly I've had to turn on the heat a few times. Then a company I don't want to do business with is trying to charge me almost a hundred dollars for a package I returned that they say they didn't get (fortunately I have the return slip) and my granddaughter's birthday present didn't arrive on time. So I was just about ready to throw in the towel when I went out to lunch with Betty, my 101-year-old friend.

Barely five feet tall and weighing less than a hundred pounds, Betty is a real dish, as my son would say. She has a headful of curly white hair and big, twinkling blue eyes that sparkle, and a smile that's irrisistible. "Hello, doll," she always says when she sees me. "You look absolutely smashing today. New dress? Red (or blue or green or whatever the case may be) is definitely your color. Now where should we go for lunch on this really splendid day?"

So we get in the car and as we drive along she compliments me on what a nice car I have and how pleasant it is to travel with a good driver. We arrive at the restaurant, any one of a dozen downtown, but chosen mainly because, praise be, I can find a parking spot, but Betty, of course, isn't surprised. We go inside and are seated and start perusing the menu. "Hard to decide. Doesn't everything sound delicious?" Betty says. The waiter tells us the specials of the day and we order, and it isn't long before pilgrims begin coming to our table. Not just the waiter or the young man filling the water goblets or the owner of the place, but often perfect strangers who just happen to be passing by. They stop and chat a moment, drawn by the infectious smile and lilting laughter of this little old lady of 101 years.

What accounts for this sunny outlook on things? Was she a child of privilege? Not exactly. She grew up during the great depression and her family had very little money. "A lot of people were out of work," she told me once. "Some even went hungry, poor souls. But we knew it couldn't last. This was America, after all." As a young wife during World War Two she was left alone with two little boys while her husband was overseas. "I missed him terribly," she said, "but I felt God would bring him back to me and I knew our reunion would be just wonderful--and it was!"

So what's the secret of this undying optimism? I really don't know, but my friend Betty always looks on the bright side of things. Maybe that's naive, some might say it's downright corny, but it's worked for her for 101 years, and I know it's contagious and rubs off on other people. By the time Betty and I finished lunch, which really was delicious, I could see the sun shining through the restaurant windows and I realized my little problems were just that, little, and I could handle them, no sweat. A wise man once said that age is but a number, and I firmly believe my 101-year-old friend is living proof of that.