The other day I happened to catch a snippet of a story about a man giving away free hugs. I think it was for Gay Pride Week or maybe a march or something.
I’m not sure and it doesn’t matter. His hugs weren’t confined to the gay community. They were offered to whoever needed one.
I found that gesture to be remarkably compassionate and generous. He wasn’t afraid, or intimated or judgmental. He was just a kind man who thought people needed a hug.
I started thinking, “if others would take the time to offer free hugs, wouldn’t this world be a little bit more wonderful?”
Young people could offer free hugs to older people. Older people who did their jobs raising, caring for, and protecting children but are now ignored, forgotten, or have simply been discarded. Maybe those young people could bring their children to offer free hugs as well. Some older people never see, or never even get to know their own grandchildren.
Throughout my earlier life, I had been hugged. Those hugs should have been meaningful, but they were uncomfortable, obligatory hugs. They were drunken hugs. And many of them were guilt-driven hugs. There was nothing I hated more.
I imagine there’s nothing better than the warmth of a genuine hug. Many of you know the feeling…but I don’t.