I was hugged by an ex-con last Friday. Not mugged … hugged. And it was all good.
You see, I have this friend named Frank who served eight years in San Quinten prison. And he hugged me.
I’ve had occasion to loan Frank some money from time to time. Every time – EVERY TIME he has paid me back. He came to see me Friday and needed twenty bucks. I loaned it willingly.
WILLINGLY? You gave an ex-con twenty bucks?
Yes, I did.
Over the three years that I’ve known Frank, he has been reliable to repay me every time. Friday, he looked horrible. He had a three-day’s growth of beard, he looked beat down, off center somehow.
As the story unfolded, his mother had a stroke a week ago and he is trying to cope with that and manage his own life as well.
He asked for twenty bucks, and said, “I have it worked out that over the next few months I’ll be able to pay you back $xx each month and pay off another loan I owe.”
And I believe him, for he has proven reliable.
And he is my friend.
I am friends with an ex-con. How about that?
I told Frank about my work change and that I’d no longer be at that particular location. He asked a few questions to make sure this was a good thing for me – are you alright? Etc.
I assured him it was a great thing, and something that I sought out.
And then he hugged me.
In that hug, I heard …
“You’ll never know what your friendship means to me”
“You care and you believe in me”
“I trust you and respect you”
Here I was near downtown Seattle, standing on a sidewalk at 4 PM on a Friday, and I’m being hugged by an ex-con.
Not mugged by an ex-con.
And it was good!
The loans? The amount of money he owes me?
Not worth mentioning.
The friendship and hope that I think I have given to a friend of mine?
This is my morning reflection!
Words of Hope
One Word at a Time