I recently asked a 4-year-old how she was enjoying her new school, since her family relocated here from another state. She replied, “I have 4 friends.” Then she proudly added, “I made them.”
Holy smokes. that’s a big life lesson from a little person.
I’d never really pondered our use of that term before – making friends. When you boil it down, we don’t get friends any other way. You don’t assimilate a friend, or find a friend. You have to make one. On purpose. You can unintentionally make someone’s acquaintance. But never can you stumble unwittingly into real friendship.
A few months ago, I found myself stranded at my kids’ bus stop with a car that refused to start. A neighbor I’d never met pulled up and offered to help. I nervously laughed it off and assured her I’d be fine. She offered her number in case I changed my mind, but I declined. The minute she was out of sight, the car started. But with the roar of my engine came a quick regret that I hadn’t grabbed that number.
She’d pointed out her house, and it had been kind of her to offer assistance; so a hand-delivered thank you note seemed my best play. I dug around in my junk drawer for a box of pretty cards that have been in there unopened for the last decade. I got so nervous about what I should write that my hand was shaking. I forgot how to spell. How the heck do you write a note to a stranger? I almost bailed, but I was a woman on a mission: friend making. I included my number and let her know she could find me on the neighborhood Facebook page if she ever wanted to grab a cup of coffee or engage in another bus stop chat.
It totally worked! The chemistry was easy, our husbands even got along. But life is busy. There were a lot of missed connections and declined invitations on both sides, because parenthood. We forged ahead. We texted between visits to let the other know we genuinely enjoyed our time together and to encourage ourselves not to give up on this. We were going to make ourselves friends, gosh darn it! We’ve fanned the flame over these last few months, and I’m happy to report it’s a full-blown friendship now. But the friendship certainly didn’t make itself. It takes effort, and there are no shortcuts.
There’s a little rush of excitement when meeting a potential new friend. I’ve been off the dating scene for 20 years; but I imagine it feels a lot like that. But with more complimenting their leggings and less mascara. The work of making friends never ends, though. It’s like knitting a sweater while some little imp mischievously pulls on the string at the other end. Unlike that rock solid potholder you made in middle school that still sits on your mom’s kitchen counter, this sweater is always unraveling little by little. Even if you make the friend with ease and get a good head start, there are always forces like time, distance, and life chapters slowly eroding the integrity of what you’ve built. As silently as a yarn falling loose, a poorly-tended friendship will slip away almost unnoticed.
Friends can be unmade much more easily than they are made to start with. I know all too well the sting of losing a friend. I know the dull ache of loneliness. I know that for every friend I’ve successfully made, I’ve had multiple failed attempts. A coffee shop visit I enjoyed, but she declined my next 5 invitations. Countless times I’ve given out my number without my phone ever ringing. Promising connections that fizzled out for no apparent reason. I’m an outgoing and gregarious girl; so I get a lot of “at-bats”, plenty of opportunities to identify prospective members of my tribe. But converting someone from a grocery aisle chat to a real life friend? Well, that takes more than words.
A friend is a precious thing, and making one is worth every ounce of effort.
