The Beauty of Friendship

I sometimes, perhaps often think we underestimate the joy of friendship. Think of how much time is spent speaking poorly of others, or wishing that they were somehow different, or perhaps just complaining about life.

What if we took time to regularly consider the affection and respect that is within our reach? What if we extended a hand, a note, or smiled and just said "hello" to a friend, a colleague, or even a stranger.


Friendship can be serendipitous, but it should be sincere. Sincerity requires reflection...and noticing the lives of others.

John and I once were in GB Russo's, a local, family-owned, Italian, gourmet market where many locals shop. While standing in the checkout lane we noticed a very large woman sitting on a bench. Near her stood a man, seemingly near her age...perhaps her husband. She held in her hand a sturdy cane, that was failing her in her attempts to rise off the bench. The woman had a complex look of frustration, fear, embarrassment, and fading hope on her face. I suspect we've all had that look at one time or another.

John and I immediately recognized that she was not able to stand. I asked John to help her and suggested that it might take both of us. He said, "No, I'll just go over and speak with her." He did and I (and everyone else in the three checkout lanes) looked on. John, the man, and the woman chatted a bit. She was smiling and looking at John with as much hope in her eyes as I've ever seen. Within a few minutes the woman made another attempt to stand up. It seemed to me that everyone in the front of the store was quietly cheering the team of three.

With John on one side and her friend on the other and with cane in hand she was able to raise her center of gravity high enough to stand. She triumphed over the low set bench!

She thanked John and made her way out of the store with he friend and their small bag of groceries. John came back to the checkout lane where I was finishing our purchase. He had a big smile and slightly teary eyes. Others, our small checkout lane community, also were all smiling. The day was better for everyone.

John quietly said, "She just had knee surgery and is not yet strong enough to sit and then stand. She got tired walking around the store and needed to sit down, but she didn't think she would get stuck. She's fine now."

A student asked anthropologist Margaret Mead for the earliest sign of civilization in a given culture. He expected the answer to be a clay pot or perhaps a fishhook or grinding stone.

Her answer: 'A healed femur.'

Mead explained that no mended bones are found where the law of the jungle, survival
of the fittest, reigns. A healed femur shows that someone cared. Someone had to do
that injured person's hunting and gathering until the leg healed.

The evidence of compassion is the first sign of civilization.

When John and I noticed the woman on the bench...when we made eye contact, when everyone in the checkout area notice--and when John offered the woman help, we all became friends, if just for a moment.

But that's the sincerity, the purity of serendipitous friendship. There is no guarantee of "commitment forever," merely the decision to do right moment-by-moment. Sometimes friendship is helping someone we've not yet met, and other times it is reaching out to begin a relationship with someone whom we feel as though we've met, but can't quite remember when.

When we take advantage of these moments that are handed to us, we make our interconnectedness richer...we get thankful expressions, memories, and sometimes even video cards that leave our hearts full.

Never underestimate the opportunity of each moment.