Good Friends
It matters not how a person has become battered, broken, and lost … it matters not whether that has happened by neglect, abuse, drugs, war, ill health, or any mistake of their own, or of others.
Whether it is a snotty nose drug addict, a child broken by abuse, a young mother left alone, a soldier arriving home missing body parts, a convict starting over, a senior saint lost and alone … it matters not.
Whether they are black, yellow, red, brown, or white… or Muslim, Jew, Christian, or atheist … it matters not.
Whether in jail, at home, at school, or standing on the corner …
A handshake, a smile, a nod of the head, a "howdy", "do you need hand", "something I can do?"… might be all that they ever need to pull themselves up.
Lifting and pulling. You can ride on my back.
Shoving almost never works … unless near a cliff.
The spirit whispers to us, and almost never shouts.
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 Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow”. Mary Anne Radmacher
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Good friends ...
