Face of God

"Jill . . ."She gave him a brief nod, indicating that she''d heard."Come on," he urged, "the rest of the group is waiting." Her brief nod was followed by a brief smile, indicating that she''d heard but was in no particular rush to do anything about it. "Jill . . ."Another nod, another smile.He shook his head, frustrated and amused. After twenty-three years of marriage he knew the futility of trying to hurry his wife when she wasn''t interested in being hurried. He sighed and glanced around the tiny shop, one of a hundred stalls squeezed next to each other inside Istanbul''s Spice Bazaar. Every inch of floor space was covered and every shelf was filled with spilling bags and open barrels of nuts, candies, fruit, seeds, pods, stems, leaves-some fresh, some dried; some ground, some whole-more spices and herbs than he''d ever seen or smelled in his life.The aromas were dizzying, as were the bazaar''s sounds and colors. A menagerie of vendors beckoning the passing crowd to "come, see my jewelry . . . perfume for your lady friend . . . a souvenir for your children . . . beautiful key chain to ward off evil eye ... finest gold in all Turkey . . . natural pirinc, good for much romance . . . Visa, Mastercard accepted . . . come, just to talk, we have some tea, my friend, just to talk."It was that last phrase that did them in yesterday. They''d barely left the hotel lobby before a merchant was escorting them into one of the city''s thousands of oriental rug shops. They''d made it clear they were not buying. The rugs were beautiful but there was no room in their house nor their budget. The owner nodded in sym-pathetic understanding. But after two hours of chitchat, pictures of a brother who lived in America, and more than one glass of hot tea, they found themselves viewing his wares and feeling obligated to at least purchase something-which they did. Seven hundred and fifty dollars'' worth of something! But today was another day-he hoped. "Jill . . ." She nodded. She smiled. And she continued talking to the leather-faced shopkeeper. The bartering was good-natured. Jill had purchased a quarter kilo of halvah-a deadly rich concoction of ground sesame seed and honey. She''d already paid for it, but before passing the bag to her, the old-timer tried to persuade her to buy more. "I''m afraid it will make me even fatter," she said, pretending to pat an imaginary belly. "A woman of your beauty, she could eat a hundred kilo and it would make no difference." Jill laughed and the man threw Daniel a wink with his good eye, making it clear the flirting was all in fun.Daniel smiled back. It was obvious the fellow liked Jill. Then again, everyone liked Jill. The reason was simple. Everyone liked Jill because she liked everyone. From the crankiest congregation member to the most obnoxious telemarketer, his wife always found some-thing to like. And it wasn''t a put-on. The sparkle in her eyes and delight in her voice was always genuine. Unlike Daniel, who had to work harder at his smiles and often thought his social skills were clunky, Jill was blessed with a spontaneous joy. And that joy was the light of his life. A day didn''t go by that he didn''t thank God for it- even as high school sweethearts, she a cheerleader, he a tall, gangly second-stringer for the basketball team. He could never figure out what she saw in him, then . . . or now. But he never stopped being grateful that she did.As the years of marriage deepened their love, she had moved from someone who always touched his heart to someone who had become his heart. In many ways she had become his center, a constant point around which much of his life revolved. He cherished this woman. And though he seldom said it, her heart and love for others was a quiet challenge and model that he never ceased striving to emulate.Yes, her love for people was a great gift-except when they were on a tight schedule, as they were now, as they always seemed to be. Because no matter how friendly you are, it takes more than a siMyers, Bill is the author of 'Face of God' with ISBN 9780310227557 and ISBN 0310227550.