I saw embarrassment and shame in his darting eyes and shuffling feet as he answered.

My heart ached for him.

Fifteen years after graduating high school, I had returned to my hometown to visit my parents, where I encountered an old friend whom I hadn't seen since graduation.

As a youth, he had had no confidence. He hadn't changed a bit.

To the world-and to himself-he was a downtrodden loser from a no-account family, with no prospects, no ambition, no hope of accomplishing anything meaningful. His life was as broken down as the rusty cars strewn across his family's front yard.

Pleased to see him and to catch up, I asked him, "So what do you do?"

"I'm just a mechanic," he answered apologetically.

The small word "just" revealed significant insights into his soul.