Saturday morning at Sam’s Club isn’t exactly how I pictured spending my day off.

With 12-hour work days Monday through Friday, Saturday and Sunday are when I get the chores finished that had to wait during the week.

Changing the sheets on the beds, a little sweeping, getting the laundry under control, filling out lesson plans and grading papers fill up those two days.

I slip in fun activities for sure, but it seems work and the to-do list are never far from my mind.

That worry must’ve been evident on my face as I walked the aisles at Sam’s, pushing a big basket with snacks for our grandchildren and paper goods to last a few months.

I noticed a man walking my way. He was middle-aged, his eye glasses on top of his head and a slight spare tire around his middle.

He had a friendly grin on his face and, when he got to me, he slowed down and whispered something close to my ear.

“Smile. It’ll make you feel better.”

The encounter happened so quickly, I wondered if I’d heard him correctly, and he was gone before I had time to realize what he’d said.

One word kept rolling around in my head.

“Smile.”

I didn’t realize I wasn’t smiling until he pointed it out.

I slowed down and, for the first time in a while, paid attention to my face.

He was right.

My mouth was downturned and my eyebrows were tense as were my shoulders and back.

A total stranger jolted me out of the “woe-is-me” mood I’d been in for hours, maybe even days with a willingness to look at me, not past me.

I looked around the store, and most of the shoppers were wearing frowns, or at least looks of intense concentration.

The children weren’t smiling either, especially as their parents were hurrying them along so the shopping would go faster.

I’ve always thought of myself as a happy person, one of those glass is half full kinds. But it had been a long time since I really felt that way.

Slowing down, I relaxed my shoulders and put a smile on my face. That smile could’ve looked like a fake one, you know, the “fake-it-till-you-make-it” persona most of us project through life.

But the smile on my face wasn’t fake.

Neither was the smile reflecting a sunny disposition.

The smile was one of hope.

Because of that man, I could feel the tiredness riding on my shoulders lifting. I began to concentrate on all the good, wonderful blessings in my life instead of the dreary have-to’s.

And guess what. The smile did its job.

That stranger’s willingness to take a few seconds to whisper a few words of encouragement made me see the world through a different lens.

For the rest of the day, I made a conscious decision to smile at people in the store. To smile at the check-out clerk in the grocery store and especially to smile at my husband.

I even smiled at our dog.

They all smiled back, and although I was tempted to pass on the words that stranger gave to me, I knew my smile hadn’t taken a strong enough hold for me to be assured I’d keep the smile in my heart.

Anything worthwhile requires practice, whether it’s trying out a new sport, learning how to cook a new dinner or learning a new song.

And so I’m practicing.

Something as fundamental as happiness especially requires practice, and the best practice for living a life filled with joy starts with a smile.

So smile.

It’ll make you feel better.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.