Charming(Marla) Some people are born charming. You know the type. They’re the people who have no embarrassing photos. Every photo, from those taken just moments after the person was born, all through childhood, every snapshot, even every yearbook picture, heck, even every driver’s license photo is confirmation that the person was blessed with the nearly impossible ability to always look good. And it’s never just that they’re adorable. Oh, no. They’re funny, or they have an infectious laugh, or they have some other irresistible trait. And you simply cannot get mad at them, even if you want to, even if you know you should!

My brother is one of those. Max was born with charm, and at five years old had light hair, big blue eyes, and a grin that could win over anyone. He could probably steal a cookie off your plate, while smiling wickedly and looking straight into your eyes, and get away with it. One morning our mom was making something, muffins perhaps, when she realized that she hadn’t checked the refrigerator for eggs before she started. This wasn’t a big problem. We had chickens. The chicken coop was some distance away from the house. She called Max into the kitchen and said, “I need eggs right away. Go quickly to the chicken coop and get some eggs.”

Well, he took off as fast as his little legs and feet could go, and he was indeed quite fast. He gathered up the eggs and placed them in his jacket pockets. I said he was charming. I did not say he was brilliantly conscientious. And then (and this is important), he ran back to the house. You may be aware that eggs are rather fragile. Placed inside a jacket of a child and then jostled roughly while said child races as fast as he can, eggs stand little chance of remaining intact.

He entered the kitchen, proud of his swiftness, sure that our mom would be pleased, and reached into his pocket.

You can well imagine what his little hands touched! Was he scolded for running with eggs? No, of course not. Partly because our mom understood that he was simply doing exactly what she said - to get the eggs right away - and partly because of that charm. Who can be angry with a child whose face goes from glowing happiness to absolute (yet somehow adorable) dismay?

It’s a story that my mom loved to tell. She told it better than I can; she was unable to tell it without laughing, which made it all the more fun to hear. As for Max, he’s still his charming self!

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