The Hug

Today I was dropping my son off at middle school and I saw a boy who had gone to the same elementary school as my son. He was hanging out in front of school, along with a bunch of other kids. Every time I see this boy--and it's only two or three times a year, now--he comes over with a big smile and says hi and gives me a big hug. Today was no exception. It's not because I'm friends with his parents, since I don't know his parents. He is not of the same ethnic or cultural background that I am, which doesn't matter except that it could have been a reason for him to feel distant from me. It's not because he and my son were really good friends; they were in a few classes together, but that's all. Maybe it's because I volunteered in the classroom and the library a lot at the elementary school, so he got used to seeing me around. But this is a seventh grader I'm talking about. I mean, my own son doesn't like it when I acknowledge him at school now. But this boy is good-natured, with a sense of humor and a lot of friends. I guess I'm one of them. That hug carried me through the morning on a happy cloud.

(The photo is a red-breasted nuthatch about to eat a french fry at Alpine Meadows. I can't think what it has to do with this post.)