Hug Corp

It has been a long time ago now but I still wish it was still going on.  It all started with David, a young man from Maine who came to our church to be a youth director.  He was a good one, too.  He was a down to earth sort of guy who was full of energy, smiled all the time, was witty, and loved to hug people.  He was convinced that we are all supposed to be that way.  He said that the bible told us to love one another and he aimed to see that we all did just that.  So he formed what he called the Hug Corp.  It wasn’t accepted readily at first but as time went by it got to be that most everyone in our church was in favor.  Including me!

          I had been raised in a family who were very loving and as I grew up I learned to be as loving as I could be to each one in our family as well as everyone else who might be around.  So it was natural for me to join the Corp.  Yes, I was willing to hug people if they wanted me to.  Why not?  That was always what those in my family did anyway.  So I went to the training school.

          The training school was mostly common sense.  We were told never to reach out and grab somebody.  They might not want you to hug them.  We were never to hug children unless Mom or Dad was there and we were sure the child knew us and wanted to be hugged.  Old people were to be hugged with care so as not to break anything.  Young people were mainly to be avoided because of the risk that they would misread what a hug was all about.  Only the young ones we knew very well and knew that they were at ease around any of us were eligible.

          Phil made us really big buttons that we snapped on our shirts that said 'Hug Corp' on them.  So there was no doubt what we were willing to do. We wore the buttons and simply stood there waiting for anyone who felt like they needed a hug.  And it worked.  People began to feel better about themselves and others.  We were all closer to each other.  It was a better world.

          My story today is a simple one that I love to tell.  One of our preachers had a daughter who was high school age.  Stacey lived around the corner and stayed with Linda and me a lot after school.  Her mother worked and usually got home about an hour after Stacey got home. So she would come to our house and watch television until time to go home.  She told us that we were her segregate parents.  She felt free to raid the refrigerator for a drink or make herself a sandwich any time.  When she would leave she would always give each of us a hug. She really was like a daughter.

          One Sunday I was standing where I was assigned to stand while I proudly wore my button.  Stacey came running up to me and gave me a big hug.  We laughed together and she then ran off to be with her friends.  I’ll bet you have had the next kind of experience that I felt.  I all of a sudden was aware that someone was standing behind me saying nothing.  I turned to see an elderly lady wearing a frown on her face. She looked as though she wanted to slap me or something. She grunted a bit and then said with a snarl, “I know your kind!”

          I was startled and did not know what to say.  So I asked, “What kind am I?”

          “You only hug the young pretty ones.”

          They hadn’t taught me what to do in a situation like this so I knew I was on my own.  I knew I was not supposed to reach out for someone but I did and I said, “You are right!”  And I hugged her.  For a long time.  She wiggled for a while until finally she relaxed.  She stepped back from me and giggled.  Then she darted off. 

          I thought my days with the Hug Corp were over but it didn’t work out that way. It happened that after that day each Sunday I would all of a sudden feel that she was behind me again.  I would turn around there she would be with her arms stretched out waiting for her hug.  And each time she hugged back with vigor. 

          After about a year the lady died.  Linda and I went to her funeral service.  And even though we were told that she had two grown children neither was there.  And there were only three other people from our church as well.  What a sad time it was.  After the service the Minister came to me and said, “She loved you, Bill.  She told me just before she died how much your hugs had meant to her. She said that nobody else ever even touched her.”

          I hate to think about that.  But at least I could be thankful for that one fine opportunity God gave me to be kind to someone, and how thankful I still am for the days of the Hug Corp.