As my regular readers know (all four of you), I am always looking for something or inspiration so that I can write. I long ago realized that the people who I have met in my life- for better or for worse- have taught me so much. Whether someone just crossed my path for a moment or for a lifetime- they each have taught me many lessons.

There’s some quote that says that friends are here for a purpose- whether they be lifelong friends or are just brief friends. They bring us what we need in that time. I truly believe that to be true. So my friends have taught me many things over the years.

My best friends in third grade were Celeste and Kendra. They weren’t my best friends in second grade or fourth grade, just third grade. My first grade best friend was a set of twins and another girl that was a grade behind, Molly. Second grade I was noncommittal. And in the fourth grade I moved five hours away which is pretty much an insurmountable distance for a nine year old to maintain a friendship.

Kendra was the pretty one. She had jet black hair that was always perfectly combed with each hair in it’s right place. Her Mom must have done her bangs because they were the perfect 80s style- with the top layer fanned over in a high bang and the lower layer curled just right. She always had fashionable clothing and was allowed to watch PG-13 rated movies. She introduced me to Yoo-Hoo and to this day, the only time I have ever had that drink was at her house on lazy weekday afternoons after school. We preferred the boxes with the included straw. We’d carry them around her backyard or when playing games. We were very cool.

Celeste was the funny one. She was beautiful as well in her own way but I loved her for her sense of humor. She had a quick wit that matched my own (as much as any third grader can be quick witted- what did we even talk about?). Her mom was British or something similar and had an accent that fascinated me. I loved to hear her Mom talk, even when Celeste was in trouble. When Celeste laughed, she’d put her hand flat over her mouth- about an inch away from her lips. I quickly copied her habit and drove my parents crazy for about a year until I lost it. Celeste lived in the attic so it gave us a lot of privacy while we played, colored, and chatted about who knows what.

On sunny days, at recess as soon as the bell rang, we would run out to the swing set and be the first three girls to the four swings. We wouldn’t share or allow other people to take turns. Extremely rude and I wonder where my empathy was at the time for the girls who just longingly looked at the swings as we went back and forth and high in the sky. Everyone else had to take turns at the fourth swing.

On the rare days we didn’t feel like swinging or we didn’t get to the swing set in time, we would mill around, walking in a line of three. We’d walk the fields or up the hill that bordered the playground. Occasionally we would let a girl name Kim join us, but mostly it was the three of us. I was never popular at any school I attended, but to me- in third grade- I was in the “cool crowd” (again, how does a nine year old determine who is cool?).

My family did not have a lot of money. I look back and as my parents were pastors, there are records in journals of their salary. I’ve looked at the figures where their salaries are listed and am in awe that we were able to survive- if not thrive- on that amount of income. Our family did not have a lot of money and as kids, my sister and I had clothes that came from K-Mart, Value Village, or Goodwill (or, on special occasions we could go to Emporium and get clothes or even…order out of the Sears catalog). When we spent the summers with my Mom in Pennsylvania and New York we learned about outlet stores. I was fortunate that I didn’t know we were struggling financially and in my opinion- everyone shopped at Emporium or Goodwill. I’ve never had any fashion sense- deliberately- so it never bothered me. My parents did their best.

In third grade, I had one pair of jeans. They weren’t the faded kind that were fashionable or the fitted kind that tapered down the leg. I had bright blue jeans that were straight legged and too long. I’d roll them at the bottom so that they had wide ankle cuffs that barely brushed the ground. I loved wearing my jeans. They were comfortable and went with anything.

One day, during class, my teacher caught Celeste and Kendra passing a note. Our teacher’s practice was to read the note out loud to the other students. This had only happened once to me and the note said something like, “Want to hang out and drink Yoo-Hoo?” so nothing too scandalous. I was grateful that this time, the teacher didn’t catch me in the act – even though I was sure I would have been given the note eventually. This time however, the teacher intercepted the banned message and opened it, preparing to read it to the class. But she opened it up, gave the two girls a very stern look, and folded the note and placed into her pocket. Strange I thought at the time, but maybe there just wasn’t a need to reflect on Yoo-Hoo during class time.

We went on with the lessons and at recess, I remember running out to recess with my two best friends. That day in particular we had decided we wouldn’t swing, but we’d sit on the edge of the playground on the hill near the boys who pretended they were dinosaurs. I asked Kendra, “What did your note say?” and she shrugged and said it was nothing important. I asked Celeste, “What did it say? Yoo-Hoo?” and Celeste avoided my eyes and pulled grass from the dirt. “Strange” I thought. And out of sheer curiosity and a lack of too much self-awareness, I hounded them about the note. Finally they said, “It was about you. We were saying your pants were too big and too blue. They look poor.”

I don’t remember a lot of moments from elementary school that aren’t vague or with details that are blurry. But I remember being taken aback. What was wrong with my super comfy jeans that were bright blue and rolled up with perfection?

Kendra and Celeste ran off- probably to demand the swings- and I just sat there. Suddenly I was too self-aware. I looked at my jeans and saw they were too big. The pant rolls were dragging on the ground and the blue was brighter than the jeans worn by the other children. I just wanted to disappear. I will never forget that feeling of shame and betrayal. It was the lesson that people who were supposed to be best friends, could be mean. Or could think I was less than perfect.

That moment has stayed with me for my entire life. Luckily I know the note was a product of two little girls who didn’t know better. And luckily I now know those jeans were not the best fit (though I still wear tragically unhip clothes and am okay with it). However, as a result of the lesson, I carry with me the need not to talk behind another’s back. An ultimate betrayal is when you think someone has the best intentions for you and then it’s found out they’ve been talking badly about you with others. I also didn’t forget the need for compassion and kindness. Whether it be sharing the swing or not making fun of others- the biggest gift we can give others is kindness. A kind word or kind thoughts. Lesson learned.

And thus, those two best friends for one year of my life, taught me about laughter, Yoo-Hoo, and kindness. And I’m all the better for it.