To The Person Who Taught Me to Be a Friend

To Rachel Marie, the Person who Taught Me How to be a Friend,

Before 2nd grade… 

You were simply the girl who wore dresses to school but reminded us, “it is still ok to participate in gym because I have shorts underneath.”  

You were the girl who was sensitive enough to cry easily when emotions ran high.  

You were the girl who bounced on her tippy-toes down the school halls. 

But sometime during 2nd grade, I came to know you as a friend.  I’ve been rummaging through my memories, trying to recall how it happened.  We certainly spent a lot of time together at church, so I’m guessing our road to friendship was the comfortable path of familiarity in each other’s presence.  At some point…

You became the person I wanted to stand by in line.

You became the person I looked for on the playground.

You became the person I had the courage to call and ask, “Do you want to play?  Do you want to have a sleepover?”

By 3rd grade, the word best friend started rolling off my tongue.  As a child, I could not comprehend what a gift you were, but as an adult, I know.  You gave me the joy of childhood.      

We spent time at my house spraying each other with a hose… swimming in garbage cans… setting up forts in the woods… talking in the kitchen about the big questions of life, like “Do we really exist or is this just a dream?”    

We spent time at your house playing with your sister’s kitchen toys… and sometimes your brother’s matchbox cars (shhh, don’t tell him)… eating plums off your tree… and playing with Fluffy until my eyes swelled closed from allergies.  

To this day, when I see two little girls holding hands, you are the person who comes to my mind. 

When we reached the dreaded teenage years, it was you who guided me into that...  

You got a bra first, and taught me how to latch it.  

You introduced me to MTV.

You showed me the art of mascara, “just a little because we don’t want to look too made up.” 

When you called, you started asking, “Do you want to hang out?” instead of “Do you want to play?”  

And then we got an idea to have a Superbowl party, and your parents said they trusted us to have it without them being home.  When you announced your parents’ trust, we both became giddy.

It’s no secret that for me, living through high school was like sitting in a canoe in the middle of a lake during a storm. Yet, you endured my competitive nature, our arguing in the girl’s bathroom (that your dad had to break up), and my feelings of inadequacy and depression. 

You showed me what it was like to be a mature friend, with a persistent presence and good boundaries…  

Yes, let’s go to the dance together.  

Let’s go to the Trail Inn before the game.  

Let’s both be helpers at Vacation Bible School. 

Let’s find Jenny and drive around for hours. 

AND… 

We can like different sports (softball for you, track for me).

We can be in different activities (yearbook for you, FLA for me).

We can walk in different friend groups when we need to. 

I’m grateful for these lessons.

I have had many good friends since you—really good friends.  But I have never been brave enough to call anyone else best friend.  I’m beyond grateful you gave me this first gift of friendship.  Because of you, I know how to be a very good friend to others.  You taught me that with grace, love, cheerfulness, boundaries, playfulness, and support. 

To my childhood best friend, you will be missed. 

May God pour out blessings and healing to your family,

Kelly