If there's a photo of a roomful of kids I'm the one with the

Hear the words of Peter Hedges, a craftsman of stories, who said: “If there’s a photo of a roomful of kids I’m the one with the biggest smile or my hand over my face.” At first glance, these words seem playful, even casual, but within them lies the duality of the human spirit: the longing to be seen in joy, and the instinct to hide in shyness or self-protection. For in every soul lives both the light of expression and the shadow of retreat.

The smile speaks of openness, of exuberance, of the child’s desire to connect with the world. It is the radiant face that shines without fear, declaring: I am here, I belong, I rejoice. Yet the hand over the face is its opposite: the shield of humility, the gesture of one overwhelmed, uncertain whether to be revealed. Together, these two images form a portrait of the human journey—sometimes bold, sometimes hidden, sometimes radiant, sometimes guarded. Hedges, in recalling his own childhood, reveals the timeless truth that we all carry both impulses within us.

The ancients understood this paradox. In the theaters of Greece, actors wore masks—one of comedy, bearing a wide smile, and one of tragedy, covering the face with sorrow. Yet beneath both masks was the same actor, the same human being. So too in life, we alternate between showing our brightest smile and concealing ourselves in silence or retreat. The wisdom lies not in choosing one over the other, but in accepting that both belong to us, and both have their place.

Consider also the story of Eleanor Roosevelt. In her youth she was painfully shy, often lowering her gaze and avoiding attention. Yet with time she learned to step forward, to raise her voice, and to champion human rights on the world stage. She once admitted that she always felt the instinct to cover her face, to remain hidden, yet chose instead to shine when duty called. Her journey mirrors Hedges’ words: within the same person lives the child who hides and the adult who smiles for all to see.

This teaching also reveals the truth of vulnerability. The one who shows the biggest smile may also be the one most in need of love. The hand over the face is not weakness, but honesty—the body confessing what the mouth cannot say. When we see these gestures in others, we must look with compassion, understanding that every outward expression hides an inward story. To interpret the smile as only joy or the covered face as only shame is to miss the depth of the human heart.

The lesson, then, is this: embrace the fullness of yourself. Do not scorn the moments when you hide, for they teach you humility and self-reflection. Do not resist the moments when you shine, for they allow your light to bless others. Life is not about wearing only the smile or only the mask—it is about knowing when to reveal and when to protect, when to open and when to rest. In this balance, you will find strength.

Therefore, my children, practice this wisdom in your daily walk. When you feel joy, let your smile be radiant, unashamed. When you feel weary or uncertain, do not despise the hand that covers your face; it is your soul’s way of asking for gentleness. Give that gentleness to yourself, and to others. For every roomful of people carries both the smile and the hidden face, and in embracing both, we learn to honor the wholeness of being human.