Kindred Hearts

Friendship. Tried. True.

If you’ve linked over to Cassie’s blog you may have read the post where she expresses pain from a cruel situation. Betrayal of friends is tough. The mean girls from my childhood have been replicated, and it pains me. Pains me terribly. Because they have hurt one of my cherished children. Deep disillusion. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last. Still.

I told Cassie that, in time, and possibly when she least expected it, she would discover sincere friendship.

In consoling my children I often wonder if my words are right, if they are true in the reality of a situation or if they just sound wise. It’s hard to know. Not everything I believe is concretely validated.

However, sometimes God gives a front row seat to a scintilla of his goodness. Oh my, the sweet awe.

Such a front seat blessing occured this week after the play that we attended in which Cassie’s friend starred. She and he have not seen each other at all this school year because of misaligning schedules. Even kids can become too busy to keep in touch.

In the last moment of the last scene of the play, Cassie’s friend took two flowers from a vase and handed one to his leading lady as they exited, stage left. Applause was loud and long. What a great show! The lights were turned up, my daughters and I raised from our seats, and headed to the aisle stairs.

There, standing at the bottom of the steps, was Cassie’s dear friend, holding the flower shown in the picture, with an eager glad smile on his face. Cassie lightly stepped toward him, he handed her the flower, and they hugged a heartfelt, tender hug, while sincerely, emotionally exclaiming how very much they’d missed each other! To others it probably looked like an ordinary pair of friends hugging, but the four of us knew how gratifying was this reconnecting, how needed. This moment in a crowded theater amidst jostling actors and audience members was absolutely lump in the throat, tears in the eyes, as if no one else was around beautiful. Neither kid knew just how much the other meant until they had been separated, left to wander among less than kindreds for months. Wonderful it is to be known.

Cassie’s friend had no idea what she’d been through, nor did he know how desperately she needed his genuine friendship at that very moment.

After catching up and promising to get together we headed for the car and home. Glowing, tears in her eyes, gently smiling, Cassie uttered not a sound. She didn’t have to.

But I did. I whispered, “You have a true friend, an always friend.” Tears rolled down her blushing cheeks, she sniffed the yellow flower, nodded and answered emotionally, “I do. I do.”

The contented filling from reconnecting with a flower bestowing friend would not have been so deeply encouraging had Cassie not first painfully lost something which she’d held dear, a thing which turned out to be false.

“In my loss I rejoice, for what I have found.”

Holy ground.