Most babies know how to win us over. We cannot help but smile at

The words of Madeleine M. Kunin shine with the gentleness of truth: “Most babies know how to win us over. We cannot help but smile at them and watch them smile back.” Though simple, they hold within them an eternal mystery—that the smile of a child has the power to disarm the hardened, to soften the weary, and to awaken the sleeping compassion in the human heart. In the gaze of an infant, unburdened by pride or judgment, we are reminded of the innocence from which all life begins.

The meaning here is not only about the smile itself, but about the divine exchange it represents. When a baby smiles and we smile back, there is no calculation, no transaction, no demand for worthiness. It is pure reciprocity, a gift freely given, an echo of the primal bond between human beings. In that moment, the walls we build between ourselves—walls of suspicion, ambition, or fear—fall away, and we are reminded that joy is our natural state.

The ancients, too, recognized the sacredness of children’s innocence. In many traditions, the child was seen as closest to the divine, for their souls had not yet been clouded by the weight of the world. Recall how in the Gospels, Christ himself declared, “Unless you become like little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” This was not a call to weakness, but to purity of spirit—to the ability to give love freely, as a baby does with its smile. Kunin’s words echo this truth: that the smile of the child is not a small thing, but a reminder of heaven itself.

History shows us countless examples of hardened leaders moved by the innocence of children. One such tale is told of Abraham Lincoln, who in the midst of war and immense responsibility, would pause to cradle children brought to him. His countenance, worn by grief and labor, softened as he looked upon them. The weight of the nation could not steal from him the instinct to return the smile of a child. In their laughter, he found strength; in their innocence, he found reason to fight for a better tomorrow.

There is also wisdom here about the power of simplicity. Many search for influence through great speeches or mighty deeds, yet a baby wields greater sway with nothing more than a smile. This reveals the heart of humanity—that we are not moved most by grandeur, but by sincerity. If a smile can open the heart of a stranger, then perhaps we too should learn to wield this simple weapon of peace, not only as children, but as adults who remember the lessons of our earliest days.

The origin of this power lies in the deepest part of our nature. Scientists tell us that human beings are wired to respond to infants with tenderness, for in protecting them, the species survives. Yet beyond the biology lies a greater spiritual law: that in caring for the vulnerable, we discover the truest form of our humanity. The smile of a baby is thus a call to protect, to nurture, to remember that our strength is given not for ourselves alone, but for the safeguarding of those who cannot yet protect themselves.

The lesson, then, is this: do not forget the child within or the power of a smile. Let the innocence of babies remind you to soften, to disarm, to meet others with gentleness. In daily life, this means choosing kindness over suspicion, offering warmth before judgment, smiling even when the world teaches you to harden your face. For the cycle of love begins in the smallest of exchanges: one smile met with another.

So let us heed Kunin’s wisdom. When we see a child, let us allow our hearts to be won over. And when we see one another, let us remember that beneath the years, each of us still carries the child who once smiled first at the world. If we can recover that innocence and extend it outward, then truly, we will find that peace is not far away—it is as close as the smile of a child.