A Family Member's Favorite Book: 2019 Reading Challenge

Fort Worth, Texas, the 1990’s.

Two distinctly opposite individuals with an unbreakable bond share their unique story of faith, friendship, and fortitude in the New York Times Bestseller and amazing true story, Same Kind of Different as Me.

Denver Moore, a rough and intimidating black man living on the streets, keeps to himself. After being raised on a plantation in Louisiana and forced into modern-day slavery due to his lack of education, he views white people, specifically men, in a negative light. So when a white couple begins volunteering at the mission where he gets a warm meal, he wants nothing to do with them.

Ron Hall grew up in a lower middle class family and decided at a young age he wanted more from life than what his parents had. He worked hard, married young, and took big risks, most of which yielded profitable results. Early in their marriage, Ron and Deborah were invited to a discussion group. Though both of them thought they were Christian, as they tried to go to church every Sunday they realized they didn’t have a relationship with Jesus, and, on their own time, prayed for forgiveness and redemption.

As Ron worked late hours and focused on thriving in his career, his marriage became less of a priority in his life. Deborah pursued God and ministry while Ron dedicated his life to making money and material things. Soon, their “separate loves did not include each other” (67). Ron had an affair, and despite their numerous fights, mutual flaws, and the other respectable reasons to separate, Deborah stuck by Ron. They spent a couple months in counseling, Deborah forgave Ron, and they never spoke of the affair again.

The couple rekindled their relationship, both of them spending less time with their individual passions and more time with each other, and Ron began taking his spiritual life more seriously. After learning about the homeless population in Fort Worth, Deborah not only wanted to join a circle of philanthropic donors called “Friends of Union Gospel Mission,” but she wanted to start volunteering as well.

Ron agreed, though secretly hoping his wife would get too scared to continue visiting the mission. Pulling into the parking lot of the mission, Deborah told Ron about a dream she had, about how the mission changed, “with flowers and everything. [The dream] was crystal clear, like I was standing right here and it was the future already” (83). Later, Deborah had another dream about the mission, this time about a man who was to reflect Ecclesiastes 9:15: “Now there lived in that city a man poor but wise, and he saved the city by his wisdom.”

After a few weeks of volunteering at the mission, a large, intimidating black man, later realized to be Denver Moore, entered the cafeteria, threatening to kill whoever stole his shoes. Deborah leaned over to Ron exclaiming that he, the man who just entered the room screaming, was the man in her dream and Ron was to make friends with him. Begrudgingly and slightly terrified, Ron accepted the challenge, and the rest of the memoir follows these two men and how they were brought together by God and a stubborn woman doing His will.

This religious memoir is my grandmother’s favorite book and recommended to me as part of my 2019 Reading Challenge. Though definitely not my “go-to” genre, I was pleasantly surprised with my emotional response to this story. Without spoiling anything for those of you who want to take a jab at this book, Same Kind of Different as Me, is a testament to the transformative power of compassion, faith, and unconditional love to break down guarded hearts and infect those whose lives we come into contact with.

Thank you Norma Lee for this recommendation; I have no question as to why it is your favorite book now that I have finished it. Thank you for being such a faithful reader of our posts, it’s always nice to know our work is actually being read, rather than simply sent off into the void. We all have our stuff, our baggage, and dirty laundry, and just because ours looks different from someone else’ doesn’t mean we can’t do life together. So, I’d like to leave you all with Denver’s say on the matter:

I used to spend a lotta time worrin that I was different from other people, even from other homeless folks. Then, after I met Miss Debbie and Mr. Ron, I worried that I was so different from them that we wadn’t ever gon’ have no kind a’ future. But I found out everybody’s different--same kinda different as me (235).

Happy reading,

~M