I don’t cry easily. Maybe someday I will. I am not proud of it. I do not think crying is a weakness. I just don’t cry easily.

Charles Dickens, in his classic Great Expectations, helps with my tear dilemma: “Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before—more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.”

So why do I need to confess about crying? Let me explain.

My recent tears arrive most unexpectedly, both in place and in power.

I am on the beach, my favorite place to relax. Then without notice, streams of steady tears begin, my eyes unable to contain the flow.

I am reading a book, something I do most everyday of my life. In this particular case, I am reading a book written by a friend. While he initially identifies it as a “novel,” I am relieved to discover these words in the preface: “This story is based upon (such) a memory for me, the true story of the intersection of strangers.” I am relieved because for me most novels die somewhere between fate and folly, dreams and drama.

Maybe I cry because I know the writer and hear the heart cry of his memories. Maybe I cry because the writer is skilled at his craft and weaves a tale of bittersweet reality. Whatever the reason for my tears, they come as “rain upon the blinding dust of earth” when I read the last paragraph and look up to discover my wife has “caught me in the act.”

Disguised as a Trojan horse, the book enters the city of my soul and captures me unaware of the power of my missing brother.

I tell you all of this because I want to warn you to read the book. I want to warn you in the way that a town crier alerts the community to upcoming opportunities.

I want to warn you “memories matter,” people are precious and life is faithfully fleeting.

The title of this book is An Intersection of Strangers and Paul Heagen is the writer. It is a story of two teenagers whose intersection in life is timely and timeless, opportune and enduring. It is a story of cars and kids, parents and music, wars both foreign and personal, fate and faith, living and dying.

I can’t promise you will cry when you read it, but I can hope you will.

P.S. You can contact my friend Paul on his Defining Moments website (www.definingmoments.me) or call 513-260-8330. Or simply go to Amazon to purchase.