I had not hugged a friend or a family member for more than two years.
I hadn't had that1until recently when my sister-in-law came for a brief visit. For everyone's safety, we met outside. Despite the2weather in January, her hug warmed me from the inside out. I realized how much I3embracing loved ones —the warmth that4long after our arms untwined (松开).
There was war in my home town in Bosnia, so I found every moment was full of5. On one peaceful morning, I begged my mom to let me go outside after weeks wilting() indoors. She6agreed. I was outside for only 10 minutes7I was caught in an explosion. I8to my neighbor's house for safety and threw my arms around her neck while my legs were9underneath me. She hugged me with both arms and10me into her house. I was still in her arms when the ambulance arrived.
11, I made a full physical recovery, but the emotional12never left me. Years later there was another explosion near my house, when my father was away to buy a loaf of bread. When he came back inside, I gave him the biggest hug13choked in tears as I held him tight.
That same night my parents managed to arrange my escape from our war-torn city. They desperately wanted at least some of my childhood to be14. I was 16 and came to America on my own. A generous host family took me15. Over next several months, I suffered16. The only way I shared my feelings was by giving Oscar, their dog, a big17.
Now, due to our pandemic lives, hugging a stranger is the18thing on our minds. For many of us,19hugging a relative or a friend comes with stress and anxiety because of risks and precautions (防范). I20that in the not-so-distant future we can safely hold one another again, a friend, relative, or a stranger.
