If you draw two circles, and a smaller circle inside each circle, you have the kind of eyes that Goldi draws on all of her people characters. You color in the larger circle but leave the smaller circle white. Then you add eye lashes. Beneath those eyes, you have a smile. Not too big of a smile. Not too small of a smile. A just right smile. A smile that says “It’s nice to meet you or “You look like someone important.”

Goldie has blue eyes . They sparkle when she smiles. They nearly pop out of her face when she laughs, and they glare into the far away world, when she is thinking about an answer to the never ending why question.

Many don’t know this about Goldi’s eyes. Because they don’t know Goldie. A new face with a new set of eyes Goldie does not know either. So to her, to look at a new face, a new pair of eyes, is looking at a mystery.

Once, Goldie met someone I have known for a long, long time. She met Mr. Wilson. Everybody in their brother knows Mr. Wilson. Everybody except Goldie.

“I heard you met Mr. Wilson today.” I said to Goldie when she returned from school.

“I did,” Goldi whispers looking down “I fist bumped him.”

“Oh” I imagined her blushing and showing a glimpse of her sparkling blue eyes as she quickly tapped Mr. Wilson’s fist. Nothing wrong with a little fist bump. But Goldie told me otherwise.

“Was I using good social skills?” she asked.

“Sure. Lot’s of people fist bump.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Well, a certain teacher asked me if I made EYE CONTACT.” Goldi emphasized the last two words and her eyes popped out of her face.

Eye contact. What do our eyes look at right now. Faces? I think not. Screens take the number one spot. Mirrors are number two. But a conversation between two people looking at each other is a rarity. If Goldie gave Mr. Wilson a fist bump, in this age, that sounds like Goldi did in fact use her social skills. And maybe she really did meet Mr. Wilson’s eyes with hers.

“I haven’t seen Mr. Wilson in a long time. Does he have a mustache?”
“No.” Goldie said. “But he has glasses.”

“Well, he is older now than when I saw him last. So it doesn’t surprise me. What color are his eyes?” I allow myself to wait. Goldi was sure to say, “I don’t know.”

“I think they are probably brown. ”

It has been over 30 years since I have seen Mr. Wilson and I cannot remember his eye color. I don’t know if I made eye contact with him long enough to know. Goldie made a pretty good guess I suspect.

Goldie met Mr. Wilson. The man I could tell a ton of stories about and those stories would erase some mystery. Then maybe Goldie would have shown her bright blue sparkling eyes to Mr. Wilson and said “Nice to meet you. “But maybe she did say it. She said it with a fist bump. And possibly more.

” What did Mr. Wilson do after he gave you a fist bump?” I asked

“He said oh my! It’s nice to meet you!” Goldie looked up and made eye contact with me. She showed her thinking eyes that were caught in one of those wonderings and smiling at the same time.

“I am sure he thought it was nice meeting you.” I smiled.