Me. The only white girl on an hour-long bus ride. I was still suffering from culture-shock almost four years after moving to the Rio Grande Valley from Minnesota, right before the start of my 7th grade year. So when the chubby Mexican girl sitting in front of me started verbally attacking me out of the blue, I was full of mixed emotions. I had no clue what I had done to incite the onslaught, but after quick mental deliberation, I decided to argue back. Everyone on the bus turned to look at us as we tore each other up with words we later regretted...because that was how our friendship began.
I'm not really sure how it happened, but I think it may have been the fact that we soon realized that even though we argued with each other all the time, we could easily stand sitting near each other on the bus during the ride home. Somewhere between our third and seventh argument, I invited her to stay the weekend at my house. When she said yes, I knew I had finally made a friend!
One thing I loved about Miriam (once I got to know her) was that she wasn't superficial like other people I had tried to befriend. She never shared our secrets or spoke badly about me to others. She never even made me feel bad about being a gringa. We were who we were and it didn't make me or her any better or any worse...it just made us individuals.
Miriam's personal secrets and family issues were not the same as mine, but we always felt free and safe to shared our concerns with each other. It didn't take long for me to know exactly why God transformed our relationship into one of true friendship. We needed each other...and still do.
She called me a couple of days ago, almost 11 years after our first encounter on the bus. I am now living in Minnesota and she is still in Texas, but we have still relied on each other for comfort and unending support through the tough times we've faced. She told me that she has mentioned me to her friends, saying that she knows that she has her sister and mother angels praying for her and her family (she considers my mom to be her second mom). Many people, sadly, don't quite understand how a friendship can stay so strong over so many miles and so many years. I can't really explain how we have stayed so close, I just know that if I ever need to talk, she'll be there. This last phone call was a clincher as she told me how much I have been missed and explains all of the things little Christian (whom I have yet to meet) has discovered.
All in all, I'm glad she's doing well and enjoying her baby, a wonderful husband, and a great life. I just miss her so much. Now, when I meet someone I think might make a good friend, I mentally compare them to her and absolutely nobody can even come close to possessing the qualities she has shown in our friendship. I guess what my mom says is true, when you reach the end of your life you will be lucky if you can count the number of your closest friends using all of the fingers on one hand.
I'm not really sure how it happened, but I think it may have been the fact that we soon realized that even though we argued with each other all the time, we could easily stand sitting near each other on the bus during the ride home. Somewhere between our third and seventh argument, I invited her to stay the weekend at my house. When she said yes, I knew I had finally made a friend!
One thing I loved about Miriam (once I got to know her) was that she wasn't superficial like other people I had tried to befriend. She never shared our secrets or spoke badly about me to others. She never even made me feel bad about being a gringa. We were who we were and it didn't make me or her any better or any worse...it just made us individuals.
Miriam's personal secrets and family issues were not the same as mine, but we always felt free and safe to shared our concerns with each other. It didn't take long for me to know exactly why God transformed our relationship into one of true friendship. We needed each other...and still do.
She called me a couple of days ago, almost 11 years after our first encounter on the bus. I am now living in Minnesota and she is still in Texas, but we have still relied on each other for comfort and unending support through the tough times we've faced. She told me that she has mentioned me to her friends, saying that she knows that she has her sister and mother angels praying for her and her family (she considers my mom to be her second mom). Many people, sadly, don't quite understand how a friendship can stay so strong over so many miles and so many years. I can't really explain how we have stayed so close, I just know that if I ever need to talk, she'll be there. This last phone call was a clincher as she told me how much I have been missed and explains all of the things little Christian (whom I have yet to meet) has discovered.
All in all, I'm glad she's doing well and enjoying her baby, a wonderful husband, and a great life. I just miss her so much. Now, when I meet someone I think might make a good friend, I mentally compare them to her and absolutely nobody can even come close to possessing the qualities she has shown in our friendship. I guess what my mom says is true, when you reach the end of your life you will be lucky if you can count the number of your closest friends using all of the fingers on one hand.
Comments:
edunn (June 10, 2007. 10:14pm)
"on one hand", hmm...I like that. Thank you for sharing this sweet story.
CrystallineTulip (June 14, 2007. 10:27am)
Thank you! I love hearing stories about how people became friends. Usually it happens very unexpectedly.