I love a girl that can make me laugh. I am not really a

The words of Jesse McCartney, “I love a girl that can make me laugh. I am not really a laugh-at-things type of guy and I don’t smile and laugh all the time... But if a girl can make me laugh... I’m in love!!!!”, hold within them a truth that is as ancient as it is tender. For laughter is not merely sound, but medicine for the soul. To awaken laughter in one who does not often laugh is to touch the deepest part of their being, to unlock a hidden spring of joy. In this way, McCartney confesses that true love for him is not found in beauty or status, but in the power of another to bring forth a smile and a moment of genuine happiness.

The ancients spoke of love not only as passion, but as companionship that heals. Aristotle called it philia, the friendship of souls who delight in each other’s presence. In McCartney’s words we see the same principle: that when one finds another who can draw out laughter from a heart usually guarded, that bond becomes sacred. The one who brings laughter becomes more than a companion—they become the light in darkness, the balm in weariness, the keeper of joy.

Laughter itself has always been revered. The poets of old said it was a gift of the gods, a flame that burns away sorrow. Consider Abraham Lincoln, a man burdened with war and loss, yet known to tell stories and laugh heartily even in the gravest times. He once said that without humor, he could not have endured the crushing weight of the Civil War. Here is the very truth McCartney reveals: that laughter is not trivial, but essential—it is the heartbeat of resilience, and whoever awakens it becomes a treasure beyond price.

There is also a deeper wisdom in his words about the rarity of true joy. He admits, “I don’t smile and laugh all the time.” Many people carry burdens unseen, appearing strong yet hiding weariness. For such a soul, laughter is not easily found. But when it is sparked—when another has the rare gift to kindle it—the bond is profound. It is a reminder that love is not only about attraction, but about transformation: the power of one person to awaken life in another where it was dormant.

History, too, gives us examples of love shaped by humor and joy. Consider Queen Victoria, who after the death of her beloved Prince Albert was sunk in years of grief and solemnity. Yet her servants wrote that on rare occasions, those closest to her could still coax a smile or laughter from her. Those moments were cherished, for they revealed that love and laughter are intertwined, and that joy, when given by another, is sometimes the greatest act of love.

The teaching here is clear: seek those who awaken your laughter, for they are the ones who touch your soul. Beauty fades, wealth shifts, fame vanishes—but the gift of joy endures. To be with one who can bring light into your darkness, who can make you smile when your spirit is heavy, is to taste a love that is both tender and eternal.

To practice this wisdom, do not chase only outward charms. Look for those who bring you peace, those who bring you joy, those who awaken your laughter even in your hardest days. And in turn, strive to be such a person for others. For to make another smile is no small act—it is to give them life, if only for a moment. And in this exchange of joy, true love is discovered, true companionship is born.

So remember, O seekers of tomorrow: love is not only found in beauty, nor only in passion, but in the laughter shared between souls. If you find one who can bring forth your smile, cherish them, for they carry the divine gift of joy. And if you can bring forth the laughter of another, know that you have given them something greater than gold—you have given them love itself.