Sunday Friendships

One of the really nice things about being a singer is getting to sit with the choir when I go to church.  I like being part of the music, but more than that I like to look out at the church family while I’m there, so that even if I don’t get to talk to everyone, I still feel like I’ve seen them and made sure that they’re doing all right.  And from that vantage point, I notice things that I wouldn’t if I were part of the congregation.  For example, the last time I was in church, I saw two girls sitting together.  One of them was Jennifer, a peer of my younger brother’s, about eighteen years old now.  The other, Gracie, was much younger, seven or eight.  Gracie was leaning over to show Jennifer something, and there was a big smile on both of their faces.

I kept thinking about that scene for a long time that afternoon.  I wondered why it kept coming back to me, until I remembered when I had been Jennifer's age.  Back then there was a younger girl, Natalia, who used to sit with me every week.  We would draw on our bulletins, pass notes, and play MASH to predict where we would live and who we would marry (using a highly illogical system to choose from severely limited options, of course).  My younger sister, too, had an older girl, Kerry, to look up to, and even further back, I can remember my own weekly heroines, Katherine, Kelly, and Lindsey.  These relationships were all very important to us at the time, but as the years went by and the girls on both sides grew older, the connection began to fade.  Now I find it awkward to talk to Natalia—her interests have changed, as have mine, and more than that we’re both so busy now that it’s hard to get in touch.

I think it’s important to connect with older women, no matter what your age.  Years bring wisdom, and even a simple connection with someone more experienced in life can be beneficial.  But with two relatively young girls, the relationship has a sweetness that cannot be replicated later in life.  The young girl admires the elder and therefore is happy just to be her friend, while the elder girl is flattered by and often grateful for the attention.  It's almost like picking out an older sister, someone who doesn't actually live with you and therefore still has the appeal of the unfamiliar.  The mutual affection is simple, but strong, and unmarred by any of the drama that too often comes with more “mature” friendships.

Thinking of my own young friend, I am glad and proud of both Natalia and myself—she’s growing up beautifully, and I think I’ve done pretty well.  I do miss those days, though, when we were the closest of friends simply because we were what we were.  Very little in life comes quite so naturally as that.