The toothbrush encounter

My friend in a Michigan prison had a toothache at 2 a.m. and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. A female guard burst into the bathroom and commenced to yell at him. She asked for his ID, which usually means that a "ticket" will be written against him. For the record, this is the CO who turns on all the lights in the joint when she comes on shift and the men are trying to sleep-because she can.

As the officer would be going off shift at 7 a.m., my friend went to her desk at 6 a.m. and asked to have his ID back. She snarled that yes he could-with a ticket! He inquired what the ticket was for, and she said that if he had a toothache he should tell her. She also pulled out his file and began to berate him for his old sentencing crime and said he was evidently a rule-breaker. She added such extraneous comments as: "You're no 150 pounds!" and "You're no 5-foot-9!"

My friend replied calmly (and always with "Ma'am") that indeed he was that height and weight, and that he didn't see what all that had to do with anything. Regarding her comment on rules, he said that both inmates and officers were bound by rules and that she herself was not abiding by them. He reminded her of an incident a couple of weeks ago in which she had acted unprofessionally. She denied it. He said there were a dozen men who had seen it. She said, "You'll never get those guys to ride with you on that one because they want to get out of here." Nevertheless, she tore up the ticket with fanfare and told him to get out and go back to his cube. As my friend started to leave, he said to her, "Have a nice day, Ma'am."

The CO mockingly echoed, "Have a nice day." By this time, my friend was at the door, and he turned around and went back to her desk and said to her, "When I said to you 'Have a nice day,' I meant it."

My friend tells me that at that point the CO changed countenance completely. For the next half hour, she began telling him everything about her life-her job stress, her divorce, her present marriage, and trouble with her daughter. My friend said he got in maybe one or two sentences in the whole half hour.

Hearing this story elated me. And later I told my mother, and she was elated too. Maybe the story will make you readers happy too. Is it not pure joy to hear a testimony of the rock-breaking power of the love of God? Does it not give you mad hope? Does it not fire your zeal? Does it not make you want to fall on your knees and praise the God of heaven, whose kingdom advances in such wonderfully peculiar ways?

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