Human Connection: Sunday Reflection
We humans are social creatures. In fact, we couldn’t survive without each other. This togetherness is what we call connection.
When was the last time you felt deeply connected to another human? What was it that created that connection?
For me, one moment stands out—a brief, unexpected encounter that reminded me of the power of connection in even the simplest of interactions.
His name was Paul. He stood at the coffee shop door, his coat frayed at the edges, greeting patrons with quiet determination. In exchange for opening the door, he hoped for a hot drink or someone’s loose change. Most people passed by without a second glance, caught up in their routines—or maybe out of discomfort.
As I walked through the doors, I handed him $10. On any other day, that might have been the end of our interaction. But something about this moment felt different.
I got curious. Watching him, I wondered—how long had it been since someone truly saw him, listened to him? I realized how isolating his life must have felt. Beneath the tattered clothes and the shadow of withdrawal sickness, I sensed there was more to his story.
Instead of walking away, I walked with him.
I introduced myself, and he extended his hand, his voice trembling as he told me his name. He was honest—painfully so. “I’m getting dope sick and need to feel better,” he admitted, his voice heavy with resignation. The shame in his eyes was palpable. This wasn’t his choice; it was his reality.
“I hate that I’m like this,” he said, his words trembling with raw vulnerability. Goosebumps covered my arms as his pain and shame sank in. I stayed silent, letting him share his story—how life had brought him to this moment, standing outside a coffee shop, hoping for kindness.
For 20 minutes, we walked and talked. In that time, I didn’t see a man defined by his circumstances—I saw a human being. A boy, lost and hurting, trapped in a man’s body, trying desperately to hold on. And yet, despite it all, there was hope in his eyes—a quiet resilience refusing to let him give up.
Before we parted ways, he thanked me. “Thank you for listening, for caring, and for making me feel human,” he said. His words stayed with me, a reminder of how powerful it can be to simply be there for someone.
That day taught me something profound: we all crave connection. It doesn’t take much—a kind word, a listening ear, or a moment of genuine presence—to remind someone they matter. In a world that moves too fast, these small acts of connection can change lives, for both the giver and the receiver.
So as you go about your day, remember: the power to connect is always in your hands. Use it.
Will you?
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