Nothing about Beatrice was special. She was an average child, being born at an average weight of 7.5 lbs exactly on the date when her mother completed nine months of pregnancy. As she grew, she met all children development milestones within normal limits. With brown hair color, that was neither ‘lustrous’ or luxurious’, hazel eyes that had no intriguing flecks of gold or green in them and a body that transitioned from child to teen to adult in no dramatic fashion she was just ‘someone in the crowd’. Ignored for most of her school years and hardly memorable, even to her teachers.

                  “Oh now Beatrice, you should be grateful that you didn’t suffer the indignity of being leered at by pubescent boys like all those other girls growing up”, her mother admonished endless times throughout Beatrice’s teen years. “Besides,” she always added, “You do have an exceptional attribute, dear. You have great teeth.”

             Though she hated to be reminded, Beatrice admitted that she did have dentition that was superb. Years of cleaning, flossing, regular checkups through her formative years, resulted in a display of dental beauty whenever she smiled. People may not have noticed Beatrice when her mouth was closed, but when she smiled, the compliments were abundant.

                  “Dang Beatrice, you sure have an amazing set of teeth.” And, “You may not win a popularity contest, but your smile could be a poster for good oral health care.”  

                  Beatrice was so sick of hearing about her teeth and smile all through her school years, that she became hyper-vigilant about smiling and keeping her head down to avoid people.

                  After graduation she eagerly looked forward to getting a job and moved to a nearby town for a fresh start.

                  “No one will know me and I can be myself. I’m smart, eager and ready to take on the world,” she told herself in her mirror on her first day of work at a local bank office as a junior teller.

                  Arriving at the bank, she was greeted by Miss Pittance with a big smile.

                  “Well, Miss Pittance, I’m ready to start. Which is my station?’

                  Looking uncomfortable,  Miss Pittance answered, “Well Beatrice, we’ve decided that your talents would be wasted meeting customers all day. We want you in the back room next to the vault, reviewing transactions as they come in and are logged so no mistakes are missed.  I know this might be a disappointment,  but there’ll be opportunities soon enough. And Beatrice,” she added in an attempt to smooth over the situation, “you have incredible teeth. They’re so white and dazzling. I only wish I had taken care of mine as well as you do.                 

                  Beatrice stopped smiling and as was her habit when she was nervous or upset, fingered the floss packet ever present in her skirt pocket.

                  “All right, Miss Pittance. Thank you.”

                  Through the following weeks, Beatrice worked diligently at her desk to demonstrate her commitment to her job, harboring hope on being given a teller station soon. The fact that all the young tellers were highly attractive wasn’t wasted on Beatrice. She had only one asset better than theirs—her teeth and smile. She knew if she was a teller, she would impress customers and the compliments would be numerous to her and Miss Pittance for hiring such a gracious and smiling teller with superb customer service skills. She pondered on this often while rubbing her floss packet for comfort.

                  On a sultry day with record high temperatures, the bank office was virtually empty of customers who did not want to venture out in the heat and humidity. All the tellers were somewhat listless and bored with lack of customers and transactions and even Beatrice, behind her desk, next to the vault, took longer than usual on her daily tasks. Usually alert, but now a bit drowsy, she didn’t notice that a new customer had walked in and quickly stepped up to a teller’s station.

                  “Don’t make a sound,” he spoke brandishing a gun. “Don’t push the panic button, honey. Just hand over your cash draw now.”

                  Terrified, the clerk quickly answered, “I don’t have a cash drawer. Money gets delivered directly from the vault via an electronic system.” and pointing at Miss Pittance’s desk followed with, “I don’t have access to the vault. Miss Pittance does.”

                  Miss Pittance, upon hearing her name, cursed the clerk silently under her breath and just managed to push the panic button before the thief turned to her.

                  “Well, Miss Pittance, I’m here for more than a pittance. Get up and show me the vault. The rest of you people, down on the floor and close your eyes. Now!”

                  Miss Pittance and the thief moved down the short hall towards the open vault. Unaware of Beatrice who managed to hide under her desk, both Miss Pittance and the thief walked right by her open door and into the vault.

                  I have to do something, now. But what? I don’t have a gun, the guard is on break and what if the panic button wasn’t pushed?

                  Beatrice’s hand went into her pocket to find her floss packet for comfort and immediately she knew what she would do.

                  Inching out into the hallway, she pulled out a long string of floss and managed to secure it from one of the vault hinges. The floss line lay on the floor almost invisible as she scurried back under her desk holding the other end. She could hear sirens coming closer and voices from the vault.

                  “Shit! Here they come. Ok, ok, I want more,” said the thief, “but this will have to do. Still a good haul. Now get on your knees and stay that way until I’m gone.”

                  As the thief started to run out of the vault, Beatrice pulled the floss tight, catching the thief at his shins and heard him thud heavily on the floor. At the same moment, the police burst through the door and ran into the hallway, capturing the still dazed clerk. Beatrice came out and looked at the thief and the police and smiled. 

                  “Well miss, you were very brave and smart—and wow, you have a great smile!”

                  Two weeks later, at the ceremony in the town square, Beatrice sat on the raised dais as the towns people gathered to watch Beatrice receive her medal of honor and have today proclaimed, BEATRICE DAY in her honor.         

                  “Tell our good citizens, Beatrice, how you saved the bank and the day,” the mayor said.

                  Beatrice stood up and walked to the podium. She took a big breath and just—SMILED!

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