Hug the trees! III

Anyway, when I saw those stickers saying ‘WE HUG TREES FOR JESUS’, I instantly nicked one.
(I did ask for permission later on, though.)
On second thoughts
I found out the inscription wasn’t wholly to my liking.
On one hand I’d have been happy with a simple WE HUG TREES.
On the other, WE HUG FOR JESUS would make equal sense to me.
(Sorry to all my agnostic friends who happen to read this.
I’ll do my best to explain.)

The other day, I saw a friend of mine give a long hug to another who’d been in obvious distress. It took me some effort to absorb that, for, I confess, my first thought was that they’d become lovers.
This bewildered me, as I couldn’t believe either of them would have stayed silent, without sharing at least some of their happines with me; moreover, having known them both as persons of chastity, I wondered what had made them advance so far and so quickly in their relationship, for the last time we’d met had been mere three weeks ago.
And then...
...I remembered another hug.

It took place sometime in the middle of those three previous weeks
and this time it was I who found herself locked in a warm embrace.
One could describe the instigator as a rather attractive, tanned,
smiley young man, with arms naturally strong from handling timber,
and of a most amiable nature.
– In other words, had I not known the lad in question, and most of all had I not been aware he’d been raised in a community setting,
I’d have melted on the spot not unlike Graham’s Scottish Butter
and ended up in an oily pool at his feet.

Fortunately, I do know him, and so the whole incident became nothing more than a nice surprise – presumably for both sides.

What would he have done if he had just learned that I was deeply troubled? His parents would – on top of words of encouragement and well-meant advice – have hugged me; I’m sure.
He might as well do the same, and of his own accord. (Especially because he probably wouldn’t have enough experience to advise me).