I don't know that I've mentioned this before in my blog -- forgive me if I have -- but growing up I didn't have many friends. And, by many, I think that could be said "I didn't have friends." This isn't to say I didn't play with other kids. I played sports at recess because I loved them. I was allowed to tag along with my sister's friends. I did kiss three girls in my kindergarten class, and was violently kissed by a little girl named Kristen when I was in Pre-School. I just mean, I didn't have friends that actually came to hang out with me that I recall. I remember 3-5 grade as being a really difficult time for the lack of friends I had. I'd watch TV shows or read books where kids had some magic connection to a friend and suddenly they'd be brought together. Since that time my understanding of what makes someone become your friend has widely grown and expanded, but I always assumed it was like the quote by CS Lewis which says, "Friendship is born at the moment when one says to another, 'What! You too? I thought no one but myself...'"
Well, I have a friend who I became friends with because of one of those one-in-a-thousand strange coincidences. She's someone who has always been impressive to me in every capacity I've known her.
I met her when I was an LDS missionary, which is where I met most of my friends in my adult life. It was a wonderful thing to serve a mission, if only for that reason. I was recently called as a leader of our small group of local missionaries, and this sister was recently transferred into our district. I called her and her companion up to talk with them, and in our conversation somehow birth month got brought up. She said that she was born in October, and I said I was, too. She asked what day, and I asked her to tell me first. Then she said, "The Nineteenth." I thought to myself, "What! You too?" I indicated that was my birthday, too. She must have had some kind of premonition that I'd be the kind of friend who often yanks her chain, because she tried to call me out for my deceit. It was true though.
Normally, that would be the end of it, but as we talked, which was only a couple times a week and never one on one, I just gained such a fondness for her. We had many of the same interests, such as the wide world of Harry Potter, the works of Walt Disney, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. These are common things to have in common with other Mormons, but we just seemed to see eye to eye on a lot of things.
She's quirky in a really fun way. She just has one of those ringing, booming laughs which makes you know you hit the spot when you crack a joke. She one time (or at least once I know of) ran screaming through a crowd of people yelling 'STUPEFY!' with a wand. The fact that it was a crowd of missionaries at the Provo, UT MTC makes it all the sweeter.
I appreciate the fact that she genuinely cares about what I say. I'm not shy about sharing my opinions, but she's a person who always asks my thoughts. That means something to me. She listens, and has trusted me with closely guarded secrets and fears and anxieties. She's a person that just seems like she's always been my friend, and a person that I have a genuine love for. I love being her friend. I love that even though there have been times where I've been callous, or rude, or made it seem like she was a pain, she cares for me enough to put up with me. I love that she loves my family. She came out to be with me the day I got married and had the biggest smile on her face watching me that day. She's eaten in my parents home and has been kind to my siblings.
I also love how fierce she is about everything. I mentioned things we have in common, and it just seems like everything we discuss always ends up being a superlative. I'm that kind of person, and so is she. She's fiercely loyal, and fiercely striving to be perfect, and she doesn't take offense easily. She doesn't wilt when she IS offended, but she cares about things that matter, and she cares about people. She views herself as a well-liked outcast in kind of the same way I view myself, and both of us seem to think more highly of the other than we sometimes do of ourselves.
This friend isn't my best friend. We don't talk daily, or weekly. We've never lived close enough to hang out often, and because I'm married, and she respects that line, we have kind of a distance there. But it cannot be understated how valuable of a friend she is to me. She's a spiritual giant, and she cuts through any lies or perceived falseness in a nanosecond. She's a rock with a soft heart, and she's truly one of my favorite people.
And best of all, she matches the purpose of this blog at all. When I was little, I didn't have friends in the usual way, but now I do. And sometimes, you really do catch lighting in a bottle and have a connection with someone over something as trivial as your birthday. It's not like I just bumped into her one day. God gave her to me as a friend, and as someone who I'd go to war with. And I couldn't be happier for it.
Even if, you know, she's a soulless ginger.
Everyone has their faults.
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