I don't usually hug strangers, but last Sunday was different.
You see, I was crossing the street from the parking deck to get to the Cathedral of Christ the King — and noticed two jovial policemen directing traffic so pedestrians could cross safely.
A little boy suddenly stopped and gave the officers high-fives — which prompted me to dole out two big hugs as heartfelt thanks for their service.
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After Mass, I headed to the nursing home where my mother-in-law — who suffers from dementia — has lived for the past few years.
Walking in the front door, I was startled to see Mom — who's been bedridden for a long time — near the chapel, perched in her wheelchair, with a huge smile on her face.
Her hair was carefully braided and she wore a pink-and-black sweater with a shiny string of gold beads around her neck.
When I expressed surprise, a cheery nurse explained she had invited Mom that morning to services — and she'd responded positively.
This nurse works long hours doing things most people would hate, such as changing diapers and bathing adults — yet she hovered lovingly over Mom as we spoke.
And in that moment, she reminded me of Christ's words: "I have come not to be served, but to serve."
As our nation mourns the fallen officers in Dallas, it helps to realize that many kindhearted folks serve as police officers, putting their lives on the line for strangers every day.
So do the nurses who glimpse the image of God in every person they bathe and fuss over.
Jewish author Viktor Frankl in "Man's Search for Meaning" writes about surviving brutal conditions in an Auschwitz concentration camp.
Despite his gruesome experiences, he refused to blanketly condemn all the guards since some risked their lives to sneak medicine and food to the inmates.
He also noted that some prisoners mistreated and abused each other, thereby adding to the misery.
Frankl concluded there were just two "races" of people in the world — "the 'race' of the decent man and the 'race' of the indecent man."
Just for the record, the officers I hugged that morning were black — as was the nurse who tenderly cares for Mom, who's white.
When Jesus said we should love our neighbors as ourselves, he didn't mean just the folks who look like us.
Would he say black lives are precious? Yes. And white lives, too? Of course. The lives of the elderly and the unborn? They matter, too.
And do police officers' lives count as much as the lives of the citizens they serve? Definitely.
What matters most is respecting every life as sacred because it was created by God — and treating every person compassionately because they reflect his image.
That's what true decency is — and it has nothing to do with skin color.
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