I grew up around judgmental people, the instinct to judge was deep within me, I work all the time to root it out and remind myself that I am  no one to judge others, and that few people or things are what they first appear to be.

I agree with the philosopher who wrote that by judging others we blind ourselves to our own evil and to the grace to which others are entitled just as we are. I’ve learned this lesson again and again, but judging other people seems to be part of human nature, it takes a great deal of discipline and strength to curb that impulse.

When I forget to stand in the shoes of other people, I forget much of what it means to be human.

For years, I avoided the Bog, also known locally as Foggy Notions. The word among  some people was that it was a biker’s bar, not always friendly to outsiders like me, city people who have drifted to the country.

There was no hard evidence for this reputation, but I often drove past and saw the bikes lined up on Main Street and I just thought it wasn’t a place that would  welcome someone like me. I didn’t go there for the first 15 years I lived here, and it isn’t like our town has all that many choices for eating out, and I love to eat out.

One gloomy night last year, Maria and I decided to go to the Bog and find out if it was true that their hamburgers were the best around. So we went, and it was true. Not only are their hamburgers thick and juicy, but it was actually one of the friendliest, warmest and most inviting places.

We were not only welcome at the Bog, we felt as if we had been going their our whole lives. It has two of the nicest  bartenders anywhere – Kelly, who you know, and Molly, who works on the nights Kelly is off (like tonight.)

Places like that aren’t designed or marketed, they grow organically,  a natural part of a community.

I went tonight to photograph Kelly, but she was off. I decided I had to take a photo, hopefully of Molly.

Kelly had an extraordinary impact on me and my photography. I saw her very radiant smile and wanted to photograph it, to take her portrait. She never hesitated, she just looked at the camera.  She didn’t mumble about how she doesn’t look good or wasn’t ready, she didn’t check her hair.

It is what is, I could almost  hear her thinking. She just trusted it.

Kelly taught me so much about portraiture, and taught many other people about grace and warmth. She also taught me about competence. She is bartender, waitress, table-clearer, cashier, and when the Bog is crammed, it seems almost impossible that she could run it all. But she does, with a smile and the ability to absorb a hundred things at once.

I’ve never once felt she was annoyed or in a rush, she just handles it.

Bars have changed, I am told. Because of the nationwide crackdown on drunk driving, lots of people, especially younger people, drink at  home if they drink at all.

Except on weekends, bars like the Bog are quiet, almost restrained. Sometimes there is loud celebrating or singing, but I have never felt uncomfortable there, quite the opposite. The bikers are particularly sociable when they come in, and if anybody gets exuberant, Kelly just quiets then down.

I want to take a holiday portrait of Kelly and I will go back to do that, but I thought Molly also has a great presence about her. I had the itch to do her portrait.  She is also very warn and very confident, if you talk to her two or three times, you have a friend as well as a waitress or bartender.

Molly was shy about being photographed, she said she doesn’t photograph well, but I told her i’d take the photo at a distance the first time, perhaps, like Kelly, she would get easy with it. (Kelly never blinked, she just looked me in the eye and said shoot away.)

I’ve found in my photography that I liked showing people who don’t think they look good that they do look good, they are beautiful in their own way, it is not a matter of what is on the outside, but what is on the inside. The outside is besides the point.

Kelly has helped a lot of people understand that and I expect Molly will get there soon enough.

The Bog teaches me not to judge things from hearsay or first or shallow impressions. It is almost an extension of our home now, people yell hello when we come in and cheer when I come up to Kelly with the camera.

Far being feeling unknown there, I feel especially known, and so does Maria. The Bog is especially inviting during the holidays, it is an extension of family for us. People like Kelly and Molly make it so.

I am glad I learned not to listen to what other people say,  and to think for myself. I’m especially grateful to Kelly, who teaches all of us what beauty really is. I’m going back tomorrow to get her portrait in time for Christmas.