On Childhood Friendships

          She doesn't want to get out of the van. Getting out of the van means she has to go inside. Going inside means she has to say goodbye. Saying goodbye means that she has to leave, get in the van, and drive away. Driving away means that he is moving tomorrow morning and she might not ever see him again.

And that hurts her more deeply than anything has hurt before.

         Matthew has been her best friend for as long as she can remember. They have spent endless days of summer together, playing in her sandbox, swinging on his swing set, creating imaginary worlds, and never thinking that they would ever be apart.

But his parents want to move to Michigan. Five hours away.

         She can't understand why they would be so cruel. Don't they realize that she needs him. She doesn't know what life is like without her best friend. For whatever reason, they don't consider her feelings. They prepare to move.

She finds out that she, too, will be moving. Her dad got a job at a college in Fort Wayne.

         Matthew and his family will leave first, before school starts. She will start kindergarten without any friends, and then will move after six weeks.

         Her parents make her get out of the van. They make her go inside. She says goodbye to Matthew and Lauren and Elena and Doug and Margie. She doesn't understand how sad she is. She has never had to say goodbye like this, but she feels as though it will rip her apart.

        When she gets back in the van she cries like she has never cried before. She shakes with sobs, gasps for air, tries to get out and go back to her friend.

“Sweetie, the Smiths have to leave. Doug has a new job in Michigan and Matthew has to go with him.”

She knows this is true, but it's the last thing she wants to hear.

“We're moving soon anyway, so you'd have to say goodbye then.”

         This only makes it worse, because she can't begin to imagine what it will be like to leave her neighborhood, her house, her church, the line of trees she would play in, the sandbox, the garden with raspberries, the neighbor's goose that is dressed for each holiday, the basement where she watched everything from “Sesame Street” to “Live with Regis and Kathie Lee,” and where she would slide in her socks on the freshly waxed floor, and where her mother would sprout seedlings to sell or to transplant to the garden. She doesn't know what she will do when she moves into the new house. She has chosen her bedroom, the one with plush pink carpet. But will she have a new best friend? Will she like her new teacher? Will her big brother every like her as much as she likes him?

        She cries for hours, and never really gets over it. It's the first time she has been left by someone she loved.

         In October, her family moves and her dad starts his new job. He works with nuns. His boss, who becomes one of the family's good friends, is a nun. When her mom starts to work at the college, most of her co-workers are nuns. Even after knowing them for many years, she doesn't quite get all their names right.

She starts school and is the “new kid” all year. She already knows how to read and count. She learns her address in a week and impresses the teacher. But that's not quite enough, because her teacher doesn't seem to like children very much. One day, when the class is preparing for the annual Thanksgiving Celebration with the other Kindergarten class. Her class will be the Pilgrims, and the teacher uses her head as the template for the hats. The teacher uses a compass to draw a circle, and puts the sharp point in the center of her head to make sure it's the right size. It hurts, of course, but she doesn't complain. She doesn't complain at school. She doesn't tell her parents about school. Even at age 6, she is living two different lives. In public she is shy, unless she can gain friends by acting out. At home she talks. She sings and plays the piano and listens to music. She fights with her brother and slowly makes a few friends in the neighborhood. She reads and reads and reads. She meets the Pevensie family and the Ingalls family and the Boxcar children and the Baby-Sitters' Club. She doesn't understand what she is doing by escaping into these worlds, but she will later find that she has been trying to avoid reality and responsibility, and has been successful. She is focusing her fear and frustration into something that is socially acceptable: being a bookworm.

         She never again has a best friend. No one stays around long enough to earn that title, and those that might be long term friends aren't good enough. It takes years to earn her trust, but she wants to have friends so she creates an identity that they will like. She becomes friends with the most popular girl in her class, Brittnay. It is a manipulative relationship. Brittnay makes her work hard to earn the friendship, but is unaware of the lengths to which she will go. As long as they both get what they want, it lasts.

        She plays this game several times, gaining the approval of the “in crowd” for a few years. It is all she wants, and when she is done with them, they are done with her. She knows she is smarter. She knows that she loves Jesus, and thinks of this as a point of pride. Whether or not anyone else thinks she is better, she does. But at the same time she is desperate for acceptance. She changes herself in several ways in order to fit in. She starts to swear. She tries to dress like they do. She tries to listen to their music. But she still hides this from her parents. They have no idea that their precious daughter is letting a boy play the “Nervous Game” with her, and certainly don't know that she is winning.

        She is a perfect angel, until she can't be anymore. She is suddenly gripped with guilt at what she is doing at school. She confesses it all to her parents, fearing the worst. But they love her. They forgive her.

And she spends her life wishing she could do the same.