When Mrs. Smiles finally smiled

High up in the Western Ghats sat a small, cheerful village with a very long name: Thinkyoumaylikeit. Luckily, everyone who lived there did like it. In fact, a lot, actually. With misty mornings, rolling green hills, and houses as colourful as candy boxes, there was not much to complain about. Well ... except for two people. The village shop, Thingsyoumayneed, was run by a grumpy pair. Mr. and Mrs. Crosspatch. They treated a smile as though it cost a thousand rupees. They liked their customers to be quick, quiet, and exact with coins. They did not encourage talking in their shop. Not that the townspeople cared. They came in, gossiped, and sometimes even sang while they shopped. They were a happy lot, you see. Mr. Crosspatch would mutter, and Mrs. Crosspatch would sigh, but the people went about their merry way. Celebration time Every year, the moment November tiptoed out, the villagers pounced on their Christmas decorations. Yes, it was early. No, they didn’t care. Trees went up, lights twinkled everywhere, and the village glittered like it had been bathed in a box of fairy dust. Soon, the baking began. Cakes, cookies, macaroons, gingerbread, sugar cookies and peanut-butter blossoms. The smell drifted through the village and down the hill slopes, like a warm hug. It was an open invitation for the people of the plains to come up. Every evening, the children sang carols and danced around their trees. It was all very merry. Except for one house. In the corner of the village sat a dark, silent house. No tree. No lights. No wreath. No tinsel. Not even a paper star taped to a window. Its owner, Mrs. Smiles, never smiled. She bought her groceries at Thingsyoumayneed without saying a word, placed exact change on the counter, and left. The Crosspatches adored her. She was their dream customer. This year was the 75th year of their celebration. The villagers went extra-big on lights. It was said that even Santa could see the glow from the North Pole. More tourists came up the hill just to stare and say, “Ooooh!” and “Aaaah!” One evening, while walking home, twins Tara and Rhea passed Mrs. Smiles’s gloomy house. They saw her in the garden, looking longingly at everyone else’s sparkly decorations. Then she sighed - a long, heavy sigh - and went back inside. That night Tara couldn’t sleep. Mrs. Smiles’ sigh kept floating around in her head. When she peeked out of her window, she gasped. Someone was standing outside. Lonely figure Mrs. Smiles. Wrapped in a shawl, she walked slowly down the road, admiring all the lights as if she wished they belonged to her. Tara shook Rhea awake. “We have to talk to her!” “At midnight?” Rhea croaked. “Are you out of your mind?” “Maybe. But come on!” The twins tiptoed out and caught up with Mrs. Smiles near the Laughitouts’ house. The place was so decorated that it looked like Santa’s summer home. “Hello... Mrs. Smiles?” Tara whispered....

Preview: ~500 words