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Print Friendship. . . strange thing, that. People say that a relationship needs to be nurtured to work, to last. And they say that if you aren’t careful about how you treat others, you’ll never have friends. Generally, I tend to agree with those statements, but have found an exception to the rule. When I was growing up, I had two “best” friends in 4th grade. One of them was Wendy. She was wonderful! Lived in a perfect home with perfect Christian parents who loved everyone and gave generously to all of Wendy’s friends. Wendy and I encouraged one another to excel in our school work. We were always allowed to sit together, work together, do special projects together, took Speed Reading together . . . we were perfect co-students. My other “best” friend was Vicky. Vicky’s family was as dysfunctional as Wendy’s was perfect. Violence, drugs, alcohol—all were a part of Vicky’s every day. She wasn’t a very good student, but she tried. We were together all of the time after school. She loved to be at my house, where things were a little more peaceful than hers. We listened to records, hung out, talked on the phone, ice skated. Wendy made me strive for perfection, Vicky made me laugh. If I were to guess the outcome of our three lives, I would guess that Wendy’s would be perfect, mine would be filled with difficulties to overcome, and Vicky’s would be horrendous. I recently talked with Wendy for the first time since high school. Her life has been far from perfect, far from idyllic and she is just now really overcoming some tough, tough difficulties. It took us over three hours to dissect our lives and find highlights to talk about. She has a CD, I am a published writer. She built a pond in her back yard. I have a raspberry bush. Silly things that seem unimportant strengthened the links between us. We hadn’t nurtured this friendship in so very long, yet, it lived in the background of our hearts. Wendy made huge impressions on my life because of her Christianity. She accepted me when I was not a very good kid. She was my friend—no matter what everyone else thought or said. When we talked the other day, she said she remembered the birthday present I gave her. Imagine that!?! She treasured my silly little gift? She also remembered the Cross and the Switchblade magazine she picked out especially for me as my “prize”. She thought I would like the story of Nicky Cruz. Of course, she was right. What she didn’t know was that I had read that magazine over and over again trying to determine if God would talk to me, like he did to Nicky. I haven’t heard much about Vicky. I heard she was married. That her life was much calmer. I’ve often wondered about the impact I have made on Vicky’s life. Does she remember coming to my house to hide when she was afraid to go home? Does she remember swapping clothes because we both knew mine were better hand-me-downs? I never made a conscious effort to treat Vicky one way or another, we just shared everything. Friendships. Remember the grade school song: “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, but the other is gold.” So glad for the silver and gold friends in my life. ninetyandnine.com © 2004, ninetyandnine.com and this anonymous blogger ----------
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