Friend. A precious word, like diamonds, which last forever. Unfortunately, not everybody quite understands its meaning. I have met a couple of people in my life who only know this word exists when everything runs smoothly and there is nothing to lose, on their side, by way of sacrifice.
But lately, like it happened when we were yet children and not corrupted into selfishness, and greed, and apathy, some people have surprised me with their version of friendship.
These are people I haven’t set mortal eyes on for as long as I can remember, but would go a mile with me, through fire. There is a sister, for instance, that, dear God, truth be said, I have not had the pleasure of thinking about in a long while, because of distance. Out of sight, out of mind, or what! Then out of the blue she asks about me. Curious, you know, what to admit, to a sister, for I was without bread awhile.
You see, times were not quite good; it was rough on a brother a wee bit. Saying I was okay would have been not-telling-the-truth. so I told her, in my usually long narratives, how the last year had been difficult, to say the least. I didn’t expect a response, because pouring my heart out like that did some healing—the talking cure, they call it. I was glad someone took an interest in me. “At last, someone understands,” I thought to myself. That was all. It seemed to have resurrected my gloomy state.
Brothers, dears, sisters, that was all I was looking for. But she did respond. And did more than that: she offered me the Good Samaritan kind of help. And it is to her credit that I am able to write these words today, to thank her, a good sister, a friend, one that cares.
If there ever was a friend to love, it was her; if ever there was a sister to be proud of at this present time, it is to the Good Samaritan kind of sister my heart proudly rises up to. Thank you, my dear.
The God who sees the secret deeds of men would one day openly reward you for the secret we share! And your word, the word you gave me, you have kept true.
Friendships that are borne out of love, respect, and understanding for/of each other are to be treasured, like wisdom, the understanding of which only God Almighty ordains, from above.
Interestingly, there is a certain young man far away by distance but mighty close to me at heart, whose name, like the sister I mentioned above, should remain, for now, between God and us two. His actions remind me of a good father, a kind elder brother, a thoughtful man, like David, Solomon even.
You see, sometimes asking from people aid, which is to solve an imminent crisis is more painful than the crisis itself, especially for men who know how much pride their own hearts carry. Bending the knees, looking up in a brother’s face, wanting pity and consideration mixed in a heart of graceful love, is never easy on a brother.
But that I did, and this my friend, dear brother, would not have it, but with a good dose of love lifted me up, from a distance, with concern and care, to give me the broth which douses the uncanny effect of pour nourishment on men.
He too knows what it means to be a friend. And, like the Magi spoken of with gleeful tongues, he gave gifts to gladden many a hungry man’s soul. This brother, too, is a friend indeed. It is to his benefit also that today I rise up to pour out words from a grateful heart.
Often it is asked, “A virtuous woman, who can find?” I believe it ought to run with this line as well, “A true friend, who has found?” It is I, said this man of many humble pies.