Chester

I was the featured storyteller. The community room was large, with rows of chairs lined up. A “packed crowd” of 14 people showed up. Okay, it may have only been 12.

My message was about how I can bring up happy memories from the past to get me out of a funk (when things aren’t going my way and I start to feel sorry for myself).

My talk was going well. I saw heads nodding affirmatively with smiles, even a few chuckles. But there was this one big guy, Chester, who kept glaring back at me as if I was offending him. He started getting under my skin. He didn’t need to show up with his dirty baseball cap and his bunch of keys hanging out of his front pocket. 

After my 20-minute talk, the group formed a conversation circle. 

Much to my surprise, Chester spoke with great emotion. He was a singer and songwriter. He said my message was just what he had needed to hear that day. The group warmed up to him. Chester even sang a few bars of a Beatles song.

It’s true. You can’t tell a book by looking at the cover. Chester proved to be my mentor for the day.

And he got me out of my funk.