What’s in a Hug?
by Shalon Stokes

In each of our lives there is a time of love, and a concrete sign of that love is a hug. From the beginning of our lives we are hugged. As newborns, the blanket we are wrapped in hugs us, and our parents’ arms hug us tight as they hold us close. Naturally, as life goes on, our hugs continue, and love continues to be given in a visible way. A physical, pure, unrestrained symbol of love is seen and given in a simple wrapping of our arms around someone in a hug.

Hugs are powerful things, but at the age of seventeen I had restricted my hugs to the one I loved, my boyfriend. As a child, and up until then, I shared many hugs with the world around me. My family was very close, and love was seemingly always shown. However, by seventeen I had found love, and I felt no one else could fill that spot in my soul again. This love was special and couldn’t be taken away, similar to what Tess Gallagher described  in her poem "The Hug" (709):

it is-- that I’m yours, only

yours, etc., exclusive as a nose to

its face. Love -- that’s what we’re talking about, love

that nabs you with "for me

only" and holds on. (17-21)

 Those lines explain exactly how I was feeling about John, from seventeen to twenty. My love was to be shared with no one except John. Marriage soon made that love exclusive and forbidden to others.

Although exclusive, our love changed when I was twenty. It started with our ministry work with the homeless and has grown ever since. One of our days was quite like the one that Gallagher describes:

A woman is reading a poem on the street

and another woman stops to listen. We stop too,

with our arms around each other. The poem

is being read and listened to out here

in the open. (1-5)

 Likewise, on a warm Saturday afternoon, my husband and I stood together with our arms around each other, listening to a woman share what God had done in her life, through a poem she had written. Standing on the street, she spoke her words, and slowly from all directions people started to appear. Men, women, even children-- all homeless and in need-- began walking toward us. I had never been to a street rally, and I was moved by all the people I saw who were in need. Suddenly a hug comes over me and I’m

giving it to you, like a variable shooting light

off to make itself comfortable, then

subsiding. I finish but keep on holding

you. (7-11)

 The rush of emotion had overcome me. I felt sadness, gladness, fear, and joy all at once rush over my body, and I could only compose my emotions through a hug. I hugged John, and comfort swept over me. As we ended the hug, I continued holding on to him. Still the hug had not changed; it was still an exclusive hug for the one I loved.

Just as quickly as our hug ended, with the same feelings and emotions a new one began. A little girl of maybe ten walked over to us saying, "Do you love each other?" Startled, I turned and replied, "Yes." She smiled and said sadly, "No one hugs me. I am not loved by anyone because I am worthless." A feeling of sadness hit me; this poor little girl had never been loved, maybe had never even been hugged before. Instantly, my heart filled with love for this little girl. In the poem a man walks up out of nowhere, and in reality this little girl had walked up out of nowhere, with the same need. "‘Can I have one of those?’ he asks you, / and I feel you nod" (14-15). With her deep brown eyes opened wide, she asked me, "Will anybody ever love me?"

                            So I walk over to him and put my

                            arms around him and try to

                            hug him like I mean it. (22-24)

The girl’s question was her way of asking for a hug, and before I even had time to think, my arms were wrapped around her.

Then the strange, awkward moment hit me. There I stood with my arms around this little girl, whom I did not know and who didn’t know me. I began to pull my feelings and arms back in fear, and then I realized my hug had no meaning, and she could tell that. She could feel me question what I was doing. "How big a hug is this supposed to be? / How long shall I hold this hug?" (27-28). I realized I was questioning my original thoughts and emotions, which drove me to be who I am-- a kind, loving human being.

                           I put my head into his chest and snuggle

                           in. I lean into him. I lean my blood and my wishes

into him. He stands for it. This is his

and he’s starting to give it back so well I know he’s

getting it. This hug. So truly, so tenderly

we stop having arms and I don’t know if

my lover has walked away or what, or

if the woman is still reading the poem… (32-39)

 With the thought that this little girl needs love, I held her close and again allowed my heart to open up, love to be shared. Joy filled my person. I, with a simple hug, had given that girl a hope that she needed at that moment. She found that love did exist somewhere and in someone, and that love gave her hope to continue. But when you hug someone you want it

to be a masterpiece of connection, the way the button

on his coat will leave the imprint of

a planet in my check

when I walk away. When I try to find some place

to go back to. (42-47)

 The masterpiece of our connection, as in the poem, was love. Not a romantic love, but the pure love we should share with humankind every day of our lives. We never know whom we will meet, but if we can share love with one another, without discrimination and by not holding back, people will never forget us--because as human beings we would leave that "imprint" on them and in their souls forever. Just like the imprint that little girl’s hair clip made in my check.

People show emotions and feelings very differently, but in this poem my real life experiences mirrored that of the poem. Love is given and too often taken away without much thought to whom it hurts, but if we could think before we act, we could leave less hurt behind us. From that moment onward, hugging people became easy. It became simple because I wanted to be at least one person who could show people who are hurting that they are loved. Love isn’t just a hug; when you give away a hug from your heart, pure love is seen and felt by the receiver of that special gift.