The Friends Who Love Us
She is my oldest friend. Yet, she’s a few months younger than me. We grew up together. Next-door neighbors from the time we were four until we graduated from college. She moved to our current state capital. I moved to the former one.
Right after we were separated, she gave me this silver ornament. No explanation. She’s never been much for back story.
But.
The year she almost died, I got this ornament out and stared at it for a long time. Before, it was a sentimental reminder of her more than it was something I would’ve chosen for myself. I hung it on my tree out of duty. No longer. Today, it shines because she does, her body strong, her mind whole.
Her cross is a reminder not to take living for granted. To be thankful for another opportunity to bedeck a tree. To count myself lucky to still have a friend I’ve known since I was four. To embrace the fulness of life.
To read more about my friend Beth:
Thankful for Miracles With Friends
This post is part of the series Roll Out the Holly, about the stories Christmas ornaments can conjure. Click here to read the series from the beginning.
I second that emotion.
It’s one that needs lots of seconds.
Beautiful. True friends help us to appreciate so many things in life. Sometimes we don’t even realize what they have done for us or brought us.
I really like that ornament by the way. I think is wonderful.
It does twinkle nicely.
Crying. Again. I forget that I’m lucky to have friends, that they aren’t just required to be around me.
Tori, they have to love being around you.
Friends are gold.
You and Miss TK are blue and gold.
This is a beautiful ornament and a beautiful sentiment for honoring your friend. Is it silver? It looks like a Reed & Barton silver ornament, which I only know because I have a friend who started collecting them as ornaments their cat couldn’t destroy when they were first married. Some 45 or so years later, she rues the idea as she polishes them to put out, then smiles with the warm memories. Isn’t it amazing how much love and sentiment one ornament can bring forth?
Wow. Polishing that many ornaments must be quite a job, but I bet they make a gorgeous tree. This one is Reed and Barton, and I do polish it every year.
Beautifully said.
Thank you, Lori.
Priceless.
Howard, I do not treat this friendship as pricesslessly as I should.
Beautiful testament to friendship. I love it.
Long friendships are rare, I think.
Heart-felt and heart received. Lovely post full of depth in very few words. You’re going to be a poet one of these days.
I don’t know. Sometimes, I don’t even feel like a writer.
How precious, Andra. Love that this ornament is a testament both to friendship and to overcoming challenge!
Hugs,
Kathy
I’m just glad she overcame challenge and is still with us.
I’m so glad you still have your friend and only an ornament to commemorate the fear of that year.
Me too.
The ornament is beautiful, but nothing to the sentiment it represents.
I polished it up extra special this year.
I’m not sure I could cope with all the emotion held on your tree- you’ve had me sniffling about all of the decorations!
Fiona, I’m happy to have all these experiences. Without them, I don’t know that I’d be living.
Very nice post, Andra. Can’t say anymore!
I want to read the posts from your inner architect, Tom.
What a wonderful reminder, Andra, of a profound friendship.
I’m lucky to have a few of those, Kate.
I’m so glad I could go back and read about Beth and be glad with you for her good health. I have friends that go back that far, too, Andra, and they are such a source of stability in my life. We are the keepers of each other’s girlhood history, and that’s a treasure. I think the silver cross is beautiful. Is Beth’s daughter still a real girlie-girl?
Yes. Beth has always been amazed at how she could have such an opposite of her. She tries to paint Beth’s nails and do her makeup, and she’s just like, “I don’t do that stuff. I’ve never done it.” I last talked to her on her birthday at the end of October, and it was still the same.
Lovely ornament . . . and herstory. Thanks, Andra.
Miracles are good things, Nancy.