Most people, it seems to me, have the feeling that they are much more frequently a friend to others than they are the recipient of others’ friendship.

If this is the case, I have a hunch why: Often our expression of friendship is too soft, too weakly expressed, too timid and thus easily not noticed, mis-read, or otherwise missed. We seem to be a culture that doesn’t want to butt in, or invade anyone’s privacy; sometimes to an extreme.

I think it’s an area where we need to eschew caution and timidity and barge right in with friendship.

I was at a large convention, the newbie in the group who didn’t know anyone, and feeling very isolated. Everyone seemed to know each other, all standing around in groups chatting and laughing animatedly like friends; everyone but me.

I searched for another single individual whom I might approach for conversation and thus join the group. I saw no one. I was becoming very self-conscious when I felt a touch on my shoulder (“a gentle and tender hand”) from behind. I turned to encounter an elderly woman with a kind face smiling and saying, “We’ve just been saying that there seems to be so many people here from the West this year. Where are you from?” as she drew me into her conversational group.

That was it. My feelings of isolation were transformed into feelings of inclusion. I felt part of the group immediately.

It was small thing, an easy gesture on her part. In that moment she was a friend to me. A small thing, yes, but I still remember it.

Satchel is really talking about more than prayer. Giving it a positive spin, he’s talking about integrity; giving it a negative one, he’s talking about hypocrisy.

The comical, lovable, and talented baseball player (Cleveland Indians, c.1948) was just sayin’ it like he saw it: You can’t have it both ways if you want to be true to yourself.

When I was a boy I was strongly encouraged to pray for a particular day to be sunny. It was presented to me as both important and necessary, so of course, I did it.

The day in question was the occasion of the springtime garden party to benefit the Carmelite nuns. It was held on the grounds of their monastery. Both my mother and aunt were active presenters of this event and its success meant a great deal to the cloistered nuns who benefited from it. (They of course did not attend, being cloistered. Seemed very unfair to me. I often wondered if they looked through the windows to see how the party was going).

At other times I also prayed for snow – so much snow that school would be called off.

These might seem naïve prayers now, and have a feeling of by-gone times and simpler assumptions about a lot of things. However, at the time they seemed both real and honest – and for many might still be.

I don’t pray about the weather any more but nevertheless I like Satchel’s advice. If you pray for the rain to stop, you gotta’ say thanks for the sun or vice versa. It’s one of the marks of an integrated life. It encourages us to get out of ourselves and think in broader terms about living our human lives in the community of others.

Here’s another way of saying Satchel’s advice: A “please” is best followed by a “thank you.”

I seem to find myself in many situations in which I question whether or not to actually say what I am thinking, or for some reason–always perceived to be justified–to avoid, to dither, to dissemble, even to lie.

Do I tell well-loved relatives what I think of their political opinions or keep my thoughts to myself?

Do I express my feelings about a particular manifestation of religious fervor or just let it go?

When a friend proudly shows me a newly bought painting, do I say what I think, that it’s abominable? say nothing? change the topic? When my hostess asks if I liked her squid bouillabaisse, what do I say?

Most of the time when I try to straddle the line between a negative truth and a cover-up, my decision is unsatisfactory. I’ve either offended or prevaricated.

Enter Groucho–with humor (not that I recommend his comment above to any host). Is there a way I can actually tell the truth, softening with humor, kindness, understanding? Thus:

‘It’s a good thing we love one another or our political differences would do us in!’

‘You know there are some experiences in the religious history of each of us at which we can all laugh or which we all have in common.’

‘It’s wonderful! You’ve found a work of art that speaks deeply to you and graces your home!’

‘My dear, the bouillabaisse was exceptional, but the charm of the hostess outshines every aspect of the evening.’

No, I can’t hear myself saying those things, either. But let’s keep trying.

He was a friend. We worked together and had known each other for several years. We would occasionally meet at social and other functions and regularly spent time in conversation.

One day he asked to borrow several hundred dollars. He needed it very badly for something important, implying it was for one of his children. He was, at the moment only, without enough liquid currency; he would pay me back soon. I was taken off guard because it was the last thing I expected to hear from him. I loaned him the money. Never saw it again. Although I did see him, as regularly as ever, which was a problem.

He would promise to pay it back soon, in just a day or so, or the beginning of next week, or whatever. Eventually he stopped saying anything about it and just avoided me as much as he could. Very awkward.

Then I found out. He gambled. The horses. Oh.

From the day of the loan to this it has been difficult for me to forgive him. I have wondered why. When I read the saying above I found an answer. He was a friend! He stole from me and he lied to me!

In retrospect, I realize that I was basically asleep in this situation. Had I been more awake to the reality around me, I would have known, as many others did, not to lend this guy money because he’d simply gamble it away. Lesson one.

Lesson two is about the forgiving thing. If someone I didn’t know had stolen the money from me, I could more easily let it go and theoretically “forgiven” someone out there with my money. But this was a friend. It touches on trust, security, self-worth, self-image, the way one relates to others, and a whole lot more. I’m still trying to wake up about this one.

To understand the power of gratitude to bestow contentment, one needs only to accept that it has nothing to do with the length of your list of things you have to be grateful for. The length of that theoretical list―or even if you’ve actually made one―is quite subjective. Rather it is an attitude toward the whole of life, no matter what it brings.

She was a very old woman who knew she was soon to die. She lived her entire life in abject poverty. Her husband and two of her four children were already dead. She always had a smile and a good word.  She entrusted to me her worn-thin gold wedding band, the only thing of value she owned, and asked that something good be done with the proceeds from selling it. “I have been very blessed by God,” she said, “and my heart of full of gratitude.” She died within a month.