On prisoners, and saying "Thanks!"
My mother
taught me a valuable lesson, and she did it by modeling. She always took time to say “thank you.” And she didn’t do it in some trite manner, as
if it were an after-thought. She took
the time to send a note of thanks on pretty note paper. She dropped off a freshly-baked coffee
cake. She made a personal visit. Her expressions of gratitude were genuine.
In my
devotions, I love reading the gospels…I like the Jesus stories. I’m totally amazed that, even though crowds
swarmed around him begging for healing, he never got sick of it. Never sent them away saying he’d done enough
healing that day. And then there came
the ten lepers. Only one of them
returned to say, “Thank you.”
HFP Board
Chairman Dan Rooks and I got another “prison fix” this week, and it reminded me
of some of those Bible stories. 150 men
in the room, all of them with needs, all of them wanting help. But here’s the thing that really touched
me: They first expressed thanks!
It was a
meeting of the National Lifers Association chapter in Muskegon Correctional
Facility. I was to give an overview of
HFP and the assistance that we attempt to offer, and Dan, a clinical
psychologist, was to discuss anger management.
After our presentation, the floor microphones were turned on and the men
were allowed to ask questions.
For me,
there were all kinds of needs: help for
a prisoner who is dying, help getting medical care, help in filling out
commutation application forms, help getting fresh air in a prison unit, help in
pursuing an alleged wrongful conviction.
The list went on and on. And for
Dan, more assistance in working with anger management behind bars. Insisted one inmate, hoping to persuade Dan
to come back for a workshop: "We need it
here!"
But here’s
the thing. Every man, before seeking
help, expressed thanks! Thanks for
helping brother Maurice Carter. Thanks
for writing your book. Your appearance tonight was a God-send! Thanks just for caring. Thanks for taking of your personal time to
come here. And the words and
demonstrations of gratitude continued until the moment we walked out of the prison
auditorium. Frequent bursts of
applause. People waiting in line just to
shake the hand of a caring individual.
Bear hugs from old friends. Tears. Laughter.
Promises for the future.
It was a
prison fix that Dan and I desperately needed.
HFP is in serious financial trouble.
In my dark moments, it feels like we’re sinking. It gets difficult to see the sun for all the
dark clouds.
And then,
in a single hour-and-a-half session, I realize that shutting down isn’t an
option. And for that message, it’s time
for me to say to our hundreds and thousands of friends behind bars: Thank you!
God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used
one to say 'thank you?'
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