One Good Friend

One Good Friend

When she was in sixth grade, my friend Barbara joined a new crowd. She had been my “best-next-door-friend” and we had spent years climbing trees, riding bikes and sharing books. But when she entered junior high and moved into preteen-hood, I remained a part of her childhood. She moved on. 

Even though we lived next door to each other, we attended different schools. During the week, Barbara spent time with her new friends. She was a great athlete and spent hours practicing with this team or that and rode home on the late bus. I caught up with her on weekends when we still sprawled in her bedroom reading together or listening to music. But eventually, her new friends invaded the weekend too and I got left behind more and more.

One weekend, one of Barbara’s new friends, Eva, was having a sleep-over.  Sleep-overs were the Nirvana of sixth grade. Barbara regaled me with the plans her gang had made—prank phone calls, popcorn, pizza, horror movies and Twister. 

I went home and cried.  I couldn’t explain to my mother what the fuss was about.  Strangely enough, in the middle of my flood of tears, the phone rang.

“Hi Lisa.  It’s Eva.  Want to come to my sleep-over?” I couldn’t believe it!  Eva lived in the neighborhood but she was Barbara’s friend. I said yes as tears still dripped down my cheeks. I called Barbara and we squealed about the fun we would have.  I hung up and again burst into tears – this time tears of happiness.    

That Friday night, I arrived at Eva’s with my brother’s sleeping bag and a suitcase full of “just in case” clothing. There were five other girls from the junior high and the party was a blast!  We spread out our sleeping bags in Eva’s basement, and then invaded the kitchen for pizza and ice cream. We dialed random numbers and asked “Is your refrigerator running? Yes? Then you’d better catch it!” We watched scary movies with our blankets up over our heads. We danced until we dropped and Eva’s mother yelled down the stairs, “All right, you girls settle down now.”

After we crawled into our sleeping bags, Barbara and her friends starting gossiping about junior high issues. Since I was the only outsider there, I lay quietly with my eyes closed listening.  As I was drifting off, I heard my name mentioned.

“Why’d you want me to invite her anyway?” Eva asked. “She’s weird and she talks funny.” My eyes burned with tears. During the party, some of the girls had mimicked me, but I had thought it all part of the fun. A few bumps and shoves during the games seemed harmless at the time. I noticed that my sleeping bag had been maneuvered into the corner too. Giggles punctuated Eva’s remark.  I waited for Barbara’s reply.

Barbara answered, “I don’t care. She’s my friend.

Years and years have passed and I can still feel how my heart stopped when Barbara uttered those words. It didn’t matter that the other girls thought I was weird. It didn’t matter that I talked funny. Barbara had not abandoned me. She was one good friend.

When I was teaching and a little one with tearful eyes wondered why her friends had forsaken her, I’d remember Barbara. 

I'd look into those brimming eyes and ask, 

“Do you have one good friend?" That’s all you really need.”

One good friend. 

Someone you’ll never forget. 

Someone who will never forget you.