Nobody ever comes to see me. Would you hug me?

It was during the mid-90’s that my daughter, Mary, was placed in the G. Pierce Woods mental facility in Arcadia, Florida. The background is far too long and tedious to enumerate here, but suffice it to say that Mary had been exhibiting some bizarre symptoms and behavior, and had previously been diagnosed with Schizophrenia.

My wife and I would drive the hundred miles to Arcadia once a month, and spend time with her. We’d sometimes drive off campus, as Mary would get a day pass, and we’d frequent a particular restaurant there. Curiously enough, in this town which “boasted” a large mental facility, every painting was askew; hanging crooked on the restaurant wall.

One weekend as we drove up Mary was standing on the parking lot curb. But she was not alone, as she normally was. No, alongside her was this great hulk of a fellow, obviously another mental patient, well over six feet, and rather overweight.

My first inclination was, “Oh, no. I didn’t come here to entertain, nor spend any time with this guy,” and the anger seethed within me. My wife and I dismounted the car, and walked the few steps towards Mary and “Bob,” (as in “What About Bob?”) You would have to know the movie.

Mary introduced me to Bob and he immediately proceeded to share the most heart-rending little story.

“No one ever comes to see me. Not my daddy, not my mother, not my friends… Would you hug me?”

Uhh!!! Never in my life had I heard such a sad plea. And as the result of that poignant plea… everything changed. My entire mindset metamorphosed.

And right there before God and everybody, as the phrase goes,… I wrapped that big lug of a fella in my arms.

And I think for that one moment in time, Bob realized that someone took time to care, to love and empathize with his plight, and for that one moment I think that Bob must have experienced the smallest measure of peace and contentment.

(By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Unconventional Devotions" copyright 2005)