“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!” The man yelled the words at the top of his lungs.

The clown frowned back at him and asked, “Who me?”

“Of course you! Look at that smile. Look at your bright clothes. Red nose! You have to be the happiest person in the world, right,” replied the man.

The clown laughed a little. “No, no. This is just a disguise. This is just makeup. The smile is painted on. The bright colors hide the sorrow in my soul. No, I am not the happiest person in the world. I mayhap be the saddest.”

The man stared, aghast, at the clown. “How can this be? You bring so much joy to the boys and girls. Everyone smiles when you walk into the room.”

“Ah, you are right. You are right. I bring joy and smiles to everyone around. But not to me. The joy belongs to all those around, but not me, not me.”

The man thought for a moment and replied, “I truly don’t know where to go from here. I thought I understood happiness, but you say it’s all a facade. What’s the point of life if not to be happy?”

The clown did smile, then. “The meaning of life isn’t happiness, my friend. Happiness is a state of being that we get to experience now and then. There are ups and downs. Life is suffering, but don’t let that get you down.” He pulled out a flower from thin air and handed it to the man. “From sorrow blooms happiness and while it may wilt tomorrow, you’ll have it today, so you know you can find it again. You just have to find a seed and plant it.”

The man studied the flower in his hand, and when he looked up to reply to the clown, he realized he was alone, staring into a mirror with a painted on frown. “I think I am the happiest person in the world,” he said, “at least for now.”