Of Chocolate and Men

  For the best part of the weekend they had listened with varying levels of indifference to the testimonies of men who had no clue about life in this place. Oh, there were some stories that struck a chord. But the most hardened were unimpressed. Mostly they agreed to participate because the food was known to be excellent and abundant. But now there was hardly a dry eye in the place. I watched with wonder as one of the hardest men I had ever met stared in disbelief. He sat there motionless, unwilling to allow the emotions seething beneath the surface to erupt. He had not seen this coming.
   In this place, where there is absolutely no privacy and most shreds of dignity had been stripped away, everyone has an agenda, everyone is working some kind of con. But this, this came out of left field. It had him by the throat and it wouldn't let go.
   It's not that he hadn't earned his berth here. He was guilty and he owned up to it. As the Chaplain liked to say, "These men aren't in here for singing in the church choir." It's just that he had never experienced anything like this. Or it had been so long he could no longer remember.
   It wasn't really the object itself. It was the idea. And someone he had never met, and likely never would, had taken the time to prepare it, expecting nothing in return. And it had flattened this street-hardened, institutionalized wise guy.
   And when I whispered 'happy birthday' in his ear (strictly forbidden in that place) the dam broke, and I watched a heart of stone turn to flesh.
   The power of unconditional love is irresistible. No one can tell me differently. And when the Author of Life removes the blinders from the eyes of the most hardened, which He will most surely do, the power of the flesh will be washed away in the flood of tears that follow.
   It was not the threat of eternal torment or the promise of streets of gold that changed this man's heart. Nor was it a promise of freedom.  It was a birthday cake with his name on it.
Isn't Father amazing!