Scars

A foreign man at the library gave me a wonderful lesson on scars today.  It went like this:  

I thought I would get my daughter some books because she needed to get some reading minutes in for 'I love to read' month at school.  I had a meeting coming up so I quickly walked over to the library to pick out some random books for her.  Alas, I got the open time wrong again and was there 10 minutes before it opened.

I didn't know this until this summer when I kept seeing my homeless friend at the library that there are a lot of 'special' people that visit the library regularly.  Today when I was there early, a special person interacted with me to show me something about the people that I meet in my life.

I was jamming on my headphones and trying to upload a video to youtube for a flashmob dance we're doing for Valentine's Day when this man set a very beautiful solid gold arm band in front of me on the window ledge.  I looked at it and then him.  I smiled and acknowledged the beauty of the jewelry.  He motioned to me to ask if I liked it.  I realized that he didn't speak.  So I spoke a little bit to him about the bracelet and he put it back in his coat.  Then he pulled up the sleeve on his right hand and showed me a big scar on the inside of his wrist.  It was a new one.  He made a gesture with his other hand as if he was shooting a gun and kept running his finger over the scar especially on one ball that protruded more than the others.  It seemed like it still hurt him.  Then he saw his friend and waved and became disinterested in showing me any more of himself.

I wasn't scared of this man.  I wasn't feeling sorry for him.  It was just an interaction that happens to me quite often actually and I chalked it up to 'things that happen to me' stuff.

Later in the day, it all made sense.  

As I was walking with my girl friend and talking about how men tend to talk about their ex-spouses, it hit me.  Those men are like the 'special' man that I had met earlier at the library.  They are showing their scars.  They feel comfortable sharing their pain and showing where they have been damaged.  It made me see the act as something honorable and not annoying.  Not everyone is allowed to see the really fresh and painful scars, but many times I am...... and for that I'm grateful. I hope by their revealing their scars to me, that they find some relief.

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