A smile always heals

You cannot pronounce my name.

“Soor-ya.” Not “soar.”

Surya—the sun god.

Mom always tells me that a smile heals everything.

So I try.

I sit beside you in the cafeteria

and smile.

You look down at your food

and eat your cheeseburger,

I eat the lemon rice in my box.

My mom cut and squeezed two lemons

and cracked open a coconut to make my lunch.

I savor every spoon of my vegan rice

while you savor your meat patty.

You enjoy your burger. I enjoy my lemon rice.

We don’t say anything to each other

until almost the end of the lunch break.

I apologize for splattering ink

on your shirt when you got my name wrong this morning.

You smile back at me. “Surya,” you say.

You don’t know how that makes me feel.

Mom is right.

A smile always heals.