It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.~Laura Ingalls Wilder

We were friends at the beginning of our lives. We shared secrets and joys. We read together. Giggled together. Sang together. At age twelve, we were separated by miles when my family moved away, but we still kept in touch. Later, our lives grew busy raising our family, working in our professions–coincidently, both of us were librarians. There’s no awkwardness when we get together after a time. No spaces of silence. We’re kindred spirits. Today is Susan’s birthday. Born the same year a few months apart.

Karen was a bright-eyed girl. Born on July 13, she was confident. Generous. Smart. Karen reached out to me in friendship when our family moved to Washington state. We lived only a few blocks from each other so it was easy to run to Karen’s for any reason. She was my confidant during our teen years. We talked about anything and everything. Although we attended different churches, we shared our common faith in Jesus.  I’ll not forget at her wedding when in the reception line, we hugged and cried and cried. No words were spoken but we knew life would be very different from then on. And it was. She was married and had a husband. Karen died about one year later in a head-on collision. I know I’ll see her later when I enter eternity in Heaven.

Then there’s my baby sister born on July 16, a hot July day. My three siblings and I sat in the front yard on the porch, waiting for the news. Soon we saw the lime green Pontiac drive down the gravel road, sunlight flashing on the windshield. “What did Mama have?” we chorused as Daddy stepped from the car.

“Well, you have a new baby sister,” he answered carefully. “I know you might be unhappy, Roger.” My brother’s face dropped in disappointment, his shoulders slumped. But then his face brightened. “What will we name her?” 

“How does Elizabeth Rose sound?” Perhaps the recent coronation of Queen Elizabeth was in the back of Daddy’s mind. “We’ll call her Betsy for short.” 

When the tiny, sweet infant arrived at home, I would quietly slip through our closet into the adjoining bedroom to admire her in the little bassinet. I wanted to pick her up but knew I’d get in trouble if I woke her.

At age seven, I learned to change diapers and rock Betsy. In fact, everyone in our church wanted to care for her. She was the darling.

After I married and Betsy was a teen, she hung out at our place often and babysat our son. She was my kid sister,  who for years was the breadwinner for her family because her husband had a career-changing job injury.  She is retired now, and a prayer warrior. Ask her to pray and she will.

Why am I writing about these three women? They made a difference in my life. Susan, who knew me as a growing girl, Karen, who witnessed my change into a woman, and Betsy, the girl who can’t remember a world without her older siblings. They were and are three gifts of friendship. They shared and two still share joys and sorrows. What would we do without friends? They are genuinely a gift from God.

Happy birthday, Karen in Heaven. Happy birthday today, dear friend Susan, and this coming Sunday, the best of days, little sister Betsy, AKA Elizabeth.

Do you have a childhood friend you’ll never forget? I believe they are a gift from God. He built into us the desire for relationships and friendship is one of those.

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