The other day I had the distinct pleasure of watching two teenage girls connect. I already knew these were nice girls, and seeing the way they responded to each other, sharing a love of books and a particular type of learning, not to mention the immediate reaction to each other’s Instagram accounts, kind of made my heart sing.
Connections like that don’t happen every day.
Whether or not this leads to any sort of long-term friendship (and by long-term, I mean anywhere from the next few years to a lifetime) remains to be seen, and I may never know. But it was a happy reminder to me of two of my friendships that started 25 and 40 years ago, respectively, and remain strong to this day.
All three of us have moved multiple times and we’ve all faced life’s struggles, and even though neither friend lives near me now, we remain in contact and have learned that we’ve grown in similar ways. Our faith has changed in some of the details (but not the basics) and our politics have changed (thankfully). I’m proud to call them each my friend.
I have good friends locally today, but these are friendships that have evolved. While I liked these friends from the beginning, there wasn’t the immediate connection I felt with the others. Is that because that sort of connection is so rare, or is it because I’m so much more cautious these days?
I don’t have an answer for that. I’m just grateful to have the friends I have and to know the people I know. I don’t make a lot of friends easily, but I endeavor to keep the ones I have.
Image credit: © Cienpies Design-stock.adobe.com

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I say a prayer for Ukraine and its people, and hope, as they must, that the war ends soon and the struggle of rebuilding can begin.
This brings back what should be a painful memory, but the situation actually never bothered me. In seventh grade (when everything embarrasses you), I slipped on a banana heading in to class after the lunch break. I thought it was funny. My fellow students just stared at me. I’m not sure where my confidence came from that day, but there it was.
Until two senior girls befriended me and told me it was okay to strike out. It didn’t matter if I dropped the ball. I was still okay and worthy of support and caring. It changed my life.

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