He was a snotty nosed brat who didn’t know what it was like to “need” for anything. His family was a part of the secret society recognized by most as the folks with a superiority complex. Another meaning would be that they thought that their crap didn’t stink. Let me know if you find some that doesn’t.
She was a poor kid living in the slums of the city that most people wouldn’t approach after the sun hid behind the horizon. Her parents worked hard, but without formal education those jobs didn’t pay enough to afford the pleasantries that the other children her age may have been accustomed to.
The young girl during her time off from school would walk with her mother around town to perform odd jobs for below minimum wage pay. Mostly cleaning gigs for the elderly that couldn’t afford to pay what the job was worth on their government fixed income. Either way, the jobs would put something on the table and keep the current on for another week.
The two kids crossed paths as the young boy’s grandmother needed some help doing the normal weekly chores that she just couldn’t handle on her own anymore. The girl and her mother welcomed the work and the opportunity to have a few more dollars that may make the monthly budget a little more promising.
At first the two children wouldn’t even look at each other. The boy thought of what his friends would say if they knew he was associating with someone of her stature. She felt inferior to the grandmother and the young boy and spent most of her time within a few feet of her mother’s shadow with her head down to avoid any eye contact.
The summer would soon come to an end. The young girl was in the yard pulling weeds from the flowerbed and the boy played catch with himself. He tossed the ball high in the air with dreams of catching the last out of the World Series. The ball tipped off his glove and rested near her feet. They began talking about baseball. They hit it off and with the few weeks left of that first summer they became close friends.
She would tell him about her families deep struggles with finances and he opened up for the first time about the struggles of his heart. His parents were big time lawyers in the big city adjacent to where his grandmother lived. They spent long hours at work and on trips across the country. He stayed with his aging grandmother and had felt for some time as if they could care less about him. His parents hadn’t attended a school function or one of his baseball games in years.
The years went by and they grew closer and closer until his grandmother grew deathly ill. His parents ended up putting her into a nursing home in another town and hiring a full time nanny to take care of the young boy. Since the house was vacated there wasn’t a need for her mother to clean anymore.
The story book movie script would have the two being reunited after they graduated college and affirming their childhood love for each other. They would live happily ever after forming a family of their own. In this case after the grandmother’s death, the two kids would grow further and further apart. Eventually a phone call per week turned into once a month and finally the phone didn’t ring at all.
The two came from very contrasting backgrounds and the world tells us that they shouldn’t have even associated with each other. But for those few summers of their pre-teen years they were inseparable. A rare feel good story emerged in the media in recent weeks that involved a Taco bell employee and a president of a bank. A friendship began as the banker frequented the fast food shop as they discussed their love for Christ. They became close friends and eventually they spent more time together than with those they were accustomed to being around.
In the end it won’t matter how many friends you have, but how many people to whom you were a friend.
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