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Monday, March 18, 2013

How to be a friend

Morris died yesterday at 7.00 AM, in his sleep. There was nothing special about Morris. He was not rich and he was not poor.  A soft-spoken quiet man. So he lived, so he died. He wasn't ever going to be a hero. All he did was be there when he needed. A long time ago, on my first job, I fell ill for two weeks. Morris came to see me. He told me nothing new. He just came to see that I was there. This man had no unique qualities. You could have passed him like a shadow in a crowd. But there is one thing that can be said about this man that is really quite profound, that with few men on earth abound. When all is said and done, he knew how to be a friend.

 Allan Bukusi

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