Success is doing what makes you happy. No matter what you’re doing. If sitting on the street asking for change and digging through garbage makes you happy, then by George you are a successful bum! Some people may see success as having the most money, or being the most popular, but if the richest, most popular person on Earth isn’t enjoying the money or popularity, then they are unsuccessful. As a seventeen-year-old, I don’t truly know where my life will lead me as of yet. At the moment I want to pursue my passion for art and become an illustrator and storyboard artist, but I also want to start a family one day and live lovingly with my children. If, on the winding path of life, I end up giving up art and a family and living with a traveling caravan of camels, but I’m still happy, then I will have become a successful person, even though I gave up what I had dreamed about.

I work off and on as a party entertainer, specifically a Face Painting Clown. I am hired for birthday parties, neighborhood festivals, and, on the best occasions, for volunteer work for the National Diabetes Association. The charter nearest where I live hosts a summer camp where diabetic children can enjoy themselves without the temptation of too much dangerous sugar or the burdens of living with diabetes.

Two summers ago, I was hired to work at their end-of-camp festival, and I had a good time painting the excited children’s’ faces. As I reached the end of my allotted time, however, I was bone-tired. My arms ached from loading my brushes and painting an endless stream of faces, my back was feeling creaky from perching on the end of my seat, bird-like, in order to reach the overexcited kids. I felt pretty successful; I had filled a day with happiness for children that don’t get a lot of it, and I was happy with my work. I had packed up all of my supplies: screwed the tops on the glitter jars, stacked up my trays of paint, dumped my water, piled up my sponges, and cleaned my brushes. When I reached my car, I saw one little girl sitting alone at a picnic table. She looked very upset, had her face unpainted, and kept glancing in my direction with a look of disdain. Confused, I got in my car and started it up. Just as I was about to pull away, she burst into tears and curled into a ball on the table’s bench. I realized at the last second that she had been too nervous to approach me all day- I had noticed her hovering around, never in line but constantly interested in the paintings.

She was the only one who hadn’t gotten a face painting.

I had thought the day was a complete success until I saw the tears in this little girl’s eyes. I knew I had failed at my job of entertainer, but also at making a child’s day better. I considered leaving. I felt guilty for not getting her painted, but she had never gotten in line. I was tired, sore, hungry, and my hands were freezing from being covered in paint all day. I was ready to go home. It wasn’t my fault if she had been too much of a fraidy-cat to get her face painted!

…Right?

No. That just wasn’t right. This failure could be fixed.

I turned off my car and got out, popping my trunk. I pulled out my box of sponges and selected my favorite one. There’s a face painting technique for making rainbows. Instead of having to load your brush with red, paint a streak, wash it off, load with orange, paint a streak, wash it off, and repeat for all the other colors, often causing them to run into each other, clever painters will prepare a wedge sponge ahead of time. All the colors of the rainbow can be arranged on the sponge, and then one quick wet and wipe creates a stunning array of perfect colors. I grabbed my rainbow sponge, a few paper towels, my mirror, and a jar of silver glitter.

As I walked up to the girl, her eyes brightened, but she shied away from me a bit. I sat down on the other end of the bench and asked her if she would like a special paint just for her. She looked at my rainbow sponge for a moment, then nodded her head. I slowly moved closer, wiped away her tears, made a few swipes with the rainbow sponge, then practically drowned her with glitter. The silver sparkled in her wet eyelashes, forming perfect spheres of light. It clung to the wet paint and made her face come alive in a dazzling effect. I turned the mirror towards her, watching her closely as she looked at her incredible reflection. Her eyes widened and brightened, turning up at the edges as a wide grin spread across her face.

“I’m a princess,” she said, turning her chin side to side and admiring her reflection. She finally looked up at me, then threw her arms around me, kissed my cheek and fled, running off to show her friends. I was shocked but pleased with myself. I had made myself happy by making this one little girl into a rainbow princess. It wasn’t until I got home that I saw the rainbow kiss on my cheek, my mark of true success.