<p>One of my good friends in high school was a real “runt of the litter” type. This was a very small community, with a tiny school system, and of our graduating class of 120, there were probably 25 or more who’d gone through together since kindergarten. He was one of them, so they’d seen him as the smallest kid in the class, the one with the lazy eye and the eye patch, the whole nine yards. You know that kid. There was one in your first grade class. </p>
<p>Anyhow, he went off to college and then AFTER graduating from college he grew about 5 inches and gained however many pounds it took to make him quite a normal-looking, non-scrawny guy. He moved back to the area where we grew up and started going to reunions, where people literally did not recognize him. He found out that people had changed, that everyone had a story, that life had been quite the equalizer, and his attitude was, “Why should I hold it against you if you weren’t mature enough at the age of 17 to appreciate all different kinds of people?” Because, you know, it’s not like he was, either–he hadn’t attempted to see the good in the tough kids or the vo-tech kids or whatever.</p>
<p>I went with him to the 30th reunion, taking that attitude with me, and it was very freeing.</p>