Rich man, poor man and a woman of faith

I guess you'd call it the literary equivalent of a blind date. A Facebook friend recommended a book about the unlikely true-life story of a modern-day slave who spends much of his life homeless and an international art dealer who meets him through his volunteer work at a homeless shelter in Fort Worth, Texas. The two men are brought together by the art dealer's wife, who insists that her husband join her in volunteering at a shelter as an expression of their Christian faith.

I hadn't heard about the book, "Same Kind of Different as Me." Nor about the co-authors, Ron Hall and Denver Moore. But my friend Jocelyn recommended it as "an awesome read." Hall grows up poor in east Texas but makes it to college, then parlays a single, big-ticket sale into a lucrative career as an art dealer, with offices in Texas and New York and regular trips to Europe to schmooze with brokers and wealthy clients. Moore grows up as a sharecropper on a former plantation in Louisiana, in the pre-Civil Rights era in a place so far off the grid that the abject racism and poverty leave him uneducated, unskilled and desperate enough to hop a train as a teenager in search of something -- anything -- else. He winds up living on the streets of Fort Worth.

With Hall's wife Debbie as the catalyst, the two men overcome their prejudices toward each other and all that each represents, and develop a friendship that continues today. The book is an easy read, with alternating chapters (typically six pages or less) that are told in each man's voice. As billed, it's an inspirational tale that weaves faith throughout its 244 pages. Ultimately, it's a story about how two strangers build trust and how each achieves his own brand of personal redemption.

As a lapsed Catholic, I admit to reading the book with a feeling of some skepticism and self-doubt. Debbie is the real hero in the story. In fact, without her influence on both men, there would be no story. Hall strikes me as the kind of self-satisfied, out-of-touch Christian I would veer away from, especially when he talks about his accumulation of luxury automobiles, palatial houses, and acquisition of a sprawling ranch as a family getaway.

He mentions prayer, of course, as a real and constant source of guidance. And it's understandable that he would turn to it even more when Debbie develops serious health problems. But as someone who's still something of a non-believer, it seems excessive, occasionally grating and, at times, somewhat of a stretch to interpret events, good and bad, as God's will.

To his credit, Hall owns up to his prejudices toward the homeless. That he is able to confront and largely overcome his attitudes and beliefs is a credit to Moore, who initially comes across as an intimidating, moody, reclusive person but over the course of the book becomes a font of common sense and wisdom. He too finds strength and guidance in the Bible, despite a lifetime of abuse, poverty and racism.

The story of the men's developing trust and friendship really is quite remarkable and meant to make the reader reflect on some obvious questions: What do I think when I see a homeless person? How can I help in ways other than giving money to a shelter? Could I see past my own prejudices to develop a friendship with someone living on the streets?

Despite my criticisms (and I realize they sound snarky), I enjoyed the book. The story is unlikely, for sure, but it's a powerful testament to what can happen when two individuals, different in every possible way, make an honest effort to really lock in and listen to each other, and see past the chasms of race and class. And, as mentioned, it prodded me to reflect on my own stereotypes of both the homeless and born-again Christian communities.

I asked Jocelyn how she came upon the book. "Believe it or not," she said, "I usually walk around Barnes $ Noble and find books based on the feeling I get about them. I know sounds crazy but it's almost like I'm drawn to each of the books I buy. Once I land on a book that attracts me I read the back cover and usually just buy it."

I've done that too and found some real gems, along with a few that have proven to be fool's gold. In this case, I'm glad Jocelyn took the time to find and recommend this book. The lessons of faith will keep me wrestling with my own thoughts and interactions with both sets of people represented by Hall and Moore.