The Mystery of the Smiling Cow Sign

Meg Quijano, left, stands with the original Smiling Cow sign with Paula Page. Photo by Jimmy Moreland.

Fifty years ago, the family-owned Smiling Cow shop in downtown Camden got a facelift: fresh paint, new products, and even a new sign to hang above the door. The original sign went missing, and no one in the family business could recall what happened to it. After decades of hanging in an antique store in Texas, the sign was discovered by Paula Page and eventually returned back to Midcoast Maine. Page recently welcomed third generation Smiling Cow owner Meg Quijano into her home to see it and to share her own history with the Smiling Cow.

Paula Page opened the door of her South Thomaston home to Meg Quijano and welcomed her in.

“I hear we have a connection,” said Quijano.

“We certainly do!” Page laughed. “An amazing connection.” She offered Quijano tea or coffee, but Quijano was focused on her reason for the visit: laying eyes on the long-lost and original Smiling Cow sign. 

Quijano’s grandparents started the downtown Camden gift shop 85 years ago. She’s the third of four generations of owners in her family, having recently passed ownership to her nephew, David Fisher, earlier this year. She grew up among the candy-lined shelves, greeting locals and visitors from away alike throughout the years. In a way, Page also grew up in the sweet little shop; she found independence and came of age during her summers in Camden, visiting from Philadelphia.

“The story is that when I was in middle school, my family started coming to Maine to perform at what’s now known as Maine State Theatre,” Page told Quijano. They were a family of singers who spent their summers in Maine participating in performances and camps. Even then, Page would beg her father to buy a house in Maine. Since 1967, she visited Camden every year, with the exception of the year she gave birth to her son. When she was in high school and college, she spent her summers boarding with elderly widows while she attended harp school. Many of her fellow harp students worked at the Smiling Cow part time, but it was the primary hangout spot for many kids in the area.

"Aside from practicing or going to the library, the only thing you could do was go to the Smiling Cow," Page said. "The Smiling Cow meant a lot to us." Maple candies, fudge, and pinecone incense were her favorite treats to buy, the ones she recalls after all these years.

After college, Page settled in Round Top, Texas, home to a world-famous antique and flea market. On a rare visit to the flea market on Oct. 1, 2013, Page recognized something hanging from the rafters in Barn B that took her breath away. It was the original Smiling Cow sign. “I wish we could remember where we bought it,” the seller told Page. “We do all our buying in New England; it was a small town in Maine, but I can’t remember the name. My husband and I had just had our blueberry pancakes.”

Page knew the woman was talking about pancakes from Marriner’s, now Buttermilk Kitchen. “Uh, huh,” she played coy, not wanting to betray her excitement or what the sign meant to her. The seller continued, “We came out of having breakfast and these young men were taking the sign down from the store. I just thought it was fabulous.” The dealer practically bought it on the spot, then whisked it away to Texas, where it remained for decades until Page found it.

Page and Quijano figured it must have been in 1974 when the dealer bought the sign — the year the current circular sign was put up in front of the shop. Who authorized the sale, and for how much, is still a mystery as Quijano doesn’t believe either of her parents would have let the original sign go. "It must have been my father who sold it," she eventually concluded.

The sign finally came back to Maine when Page sold her Texas home and fulfilled her lifelong dream of moving to the Midcoast before the pandemic hit. "There was a part of me that felt like I had to save the sign when I found it," Page said. "I didn't know what might happen to it, and for all of us harpists who came here, it just meant everything."

For now, the sign is at home with Page. But she insists Quijano and her family may visit it, and their shared history, any time they like.

Paula Page, left, shows Meg Quijano her family's original shop sign. Photo by Jimmy Moreland.