We came to a small village, and as we walked through the crowds in the marketplace, a space of fifteen feet opened in front of my friend.
At the end of the space, opposite Him, stood a small child of three or four years old. The child turned his face up to my friend and smiled. My friend squatted down and opened His arms in invitation. The child immediately dashed forward as quickly as he could, and hugged my friend as hard as he could.
As I smiled at the sight, I felt a twinge of jealousy. Despite the time I had spent on the road with my friend, it had never occurred to me that I might embrace Him. I realized as I looked on that not only did I wish for an embrace, I was desperate for it.
He must have read my thoughts, because as He let the child go, He walked over to me and opened His arms. I did not run to Him as the child did, but I did accept His offer, and I think I hugged Him just as hard as the child had.
Never in all my life was I so content. Never in all my life did I feel so accepted and loved. Never in all my life was I surer that I belonged.
It would have been fine with me if I had never moved again.
When we separated, He looked into my eyes, and I understood a hug (and all the love it contained) was available to me whenever I felt the need.
As the trip continued, I often took advantage of that understanding.