One morning this summer I was feeling frustrated and sad as I walked to work. I don't remember why- I was probably woken up by the bird from hell who lived right outside our bedroom window. I left the compound and had not gone 15 steps before a little boy from across the way ran up and into my arms. I picked him up, hugged him, set him back down, and watched him run back to his house. I imagined that God himself was hugging me through those little brown arms.
This hug was the beginning of a five-month hugging relationship between Alpha and me. His brother and friends would yell to him when they saw me coming. He would run out of his house or the little shop his mom owns. (One time I went to buy something from his mom and saw him by himself, stealthily climbing the shelves to reach some cookies.) I would pick him up and hug him close while he stared off, not especially interested. I would say, "Hi, Alpha," to which he would say, "Fine." "How di bodi?" I'd ask, and he would respond, "Fine." That was the extent of our conversation. I never understood what he got from this relationship, but I didn't need to know. I just hugged him and let his little heart warm mine.
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