It was the last morning of the four-day conference. Someone among us had asked for our prayers. We sat around the room, heads bowed, and prayed for an "unknown friend." 

Through the corner of my eye, I watched my neighbor, sitting with closed eyes and rapt face. Four days before, on first seeing her modest dress, her quiet face, I had winced, thinking, this one's a wet blanket. 

Now I watched her with affection, for I had come to know her as a warm, delightful person. All around the room I could see others whom I had thought dull or antagonistic or shallow, until I came to know them. How well the phrase "unknown friend" described these people! I had thought I was meeting strangers, but I was really meeting friends, waiting to be known. 

Twelve hours later, I stood in line to board a plane home. The young man in front of me stepped back and stumbled against my bag, knocking it over. He muttered something under his breath. A sharp retort sprang to my mind, for I didn't like his longhaired looks anyway. Then the thought came: maybe this is another

"unknown friend." by Ruth Bruns 
found at www.osmond.net