Finding Boo Radley

As she poured the hot tea into my cup, the aroma of cinnamon reached my nose.  I breathed it in deep as I wiped another tear from my red, blotchy, swollen face.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, “you are just another Boo Radley.”  The words effortlessly rolled from her tongue in a reassuring manner meant to bring comfort and solace. 

I laughed, “Okay explain this analogy – I can’t wait to hear how my failing love life makes me like Boo Radley.”

I think to myself how fortunate I am to have this wonderful person as my dear friend.  As a literature aficionado, sometimes it seems like my entire life is like one big long extended metaphor; I see the layers upon layers of meaning in all that I do and all that I encounter.  I wonder if others do too or it is a gift or curse entrusted to just literary folks.  Apparently I am Boo Radley; this I can’t wait to hear.

“Don’t you remember what Miss Maudie said,” she reminded, “Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.  They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us.  That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”

I was impressed, but not surprised that she remembered the exact quote from Harper Lee’s much beloved text.  It still remains my favorite book of all time and every Fall I renew my lifelong dream of marrying Atticus Finch. I wonder, where are men like that today?  Before I could escape too far into my daydream I was pulled back to reality by her explanation.

“Well,” she began, “you are like a mockingbird in that you don’t impose upon others; you give and give and give to those around you just to make them happy.  You are one of the most giving people I know.  Yet, like Boo, your quiet reclusive mysterious nature keeps others from really knowing you.  And like Boo Radley’s attempt at friendship when he stashed all the gifts for Jem and Scout into the knothole of the tree, your generosity and kindness is so often misunderstood.” 

“Hmm…You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?” I smiled even more grateful for such a caring friend.

“Well,” she smiled, “I just finished the book last week; it’s still fresh,” trying to minimize her spot on insight. “But make no mistake – you are Boo Radley, sweet, shy, sensitive Boo.”

I thought long and hard about what she said and it did resonate a bit, perhaps a bit too much.  I sipped my tea and let my thoughts drift back to Atticus (INFJ) and wondered when I would find another like him.