My Uncle's Shoes

Sunshine in a Bottle

 Tom Froehlich

“What about the lavender?” Her skin was the color of those windmill cookies my mom used to buy when I was a kid. Her head wrapped in violet cotton, mirrored the fragrance she had just mentioned. 

One of the many jobs I had, while trying to find my place in Southern California, was promoting organic, bath and body, products at local farmers markets and festivals.  I found that people are often drawn to the color associated with a fragrance. I have a theory that colors, sounds, smells and flavors, even touch all have sensory compatriots vibrating at a similar frequency, and when we are in alignment with the Universe we are drawn to those sympathetic vibrations.  I have no idea if it is true or not and for all I know someone with the appropriate letters following their name has written a paper on this theory and perhaps even won a Nobel Prize.  I’m not trying to convince anyone. Take it or leave it. It just makes sense to me on a spiritual level.

Opening the bottle of lavender lotion, I handed it to the turbaned, windmill cookie lady and said, “Smell it,” with a knowing grin.

“Oh my,” she gasped after hiving taken a whiff, “that is just wonderful isn’t it?”

Smiling I said, “I know, right? All of these fragrances are taken directly from the plant they are named after. The Sicilian Blood Orange actually comes from the rinds of blood oranges from Italy. The Australian Eucalyptus from down under and the lavender comes directly from…”

“France,” she finished for me with a smile and a rich chuckle.

“You got it,” I said, smiling at her joy in something so simple.

“I think that’s why all of the fragrances are so amazing. There is nothing manmade and I think our bodies intuitively know if it’s a scent that was made by Mother Nature or by man. And in this day and age, I think our bodies crave things that bring us back to the Earth.  Back to a knowing of where we come from.” I didn’t get into my whole color/vibration theory.  I kind of felt as if I had gone far enough out on the limb of, “just how crazy is this guy?”. I mean I’m just selling body lotion for Christ sake not some magical potion that’s going to heal the world.

Yet the lady with a laugh richer than Swiss chocolate just smiled, her brown eyes twinkling and said, “May I smell the rest of them?”

“Certainly,” I said, handing her a bottle of Sicilian Blood Orange lotion. As she inhaled I commented, “Smells like sunshine doesn’t it?” and then laughing at myself added, “Well if sunshine had a smell.”

“No. You were right the first time,” she said with a surprised look of wonder. “It does smell like sunshine.”

I walked my new friend through the California Rose and the Greek Honey Mint. She shared her journey with me through her ooohs and aaahs and her winsome smiles and somehow the experience became something beyond just selling a bottle of body lotion.  It was about sharing with a stranger, that if we wanted it to, a bottle of blood orange scented lotion could actually smell like sunshine.

“Well, honey I can’t decide so I guess I’ll have to take a bottle of that incredible French Lavender and how could I walk away with out a bottle of sunshine?” she said with a grin.

I slipped the lavender and blood orange lotion into a plain brown bag and dressed it with magenta tissue paper.

“Look at you! Isn’t that just beautiful,” she said with a grateful smile, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners revisiting furrows from countless smiles long past.

“The way I see it why not make something beautiful if you can? It’s all about the magic.”

“And I do like a magic filled morning. I certainly do,” she said as one of like mind.

I handed her the festively dressed bag and said, “Thank you. And thank you for your laugh and beautiful smile.”

She paused for a moment and tilted her head slightly as if her thoughts needed time to crystallize and then said, “It was you, you know. I felt it when I saw you across the market.”

I looked at my new friend with confusion.

She laughed and continued, “Could you, for a just moment, be open to the possibility that you drew that joy to you? Because you did you know. It was you.” She paused a moment, giving me a thoughtful grin.

I just smiled.

She sashayed away, with a wink and a smile, calling back over her shoulder, “Have a magical day Sunshine Man.”

“Abracadabra lovely lady,” I responded, quietly adding , “I already am.”