Beyond The Laughter

I see him when the costume has come off, when the hat and cane have been put away, and the mustache has been removed. I see him in the reflection of his dressing room mirror after the make-up has been washed from his face.

I know that his questioning blue eyes and somber expression aren’t those of the charming clown everyone thinks they know, the little fellow who makes the world laugh. Those eyes and that sad smile know the pain in the world, and that it is often at the heart of laughter.

He’s more than just a clown.