friendship

My Choice: Fortunate over Unfortunate

/ Cheryl / Leave a comment

In Chaim Potok’s The Chosen, Danny hits a softball right at Reuven’s face. The ball breaks Reuven’s glasses, and the shards lodge in and scratch his eye – sending Reuven to the hospital. The friendship that develops between these two Jewish teens from very different backgrounds (Danny is Hasidic, Reuven a liberal Orthodox) following Danny’s visits to Reuven in the hospital is beyond beautiful. It grows into a relationship that is essential for both of them. There are so many beautiful layers in this story, just as in any of Potok’s stories. (Read the book.) Keep the beauty of this friendship in mind as you read the passage I’ve been thinking of quite a bit lately:

When Reuven’s doctor suggest he get out of bed to walk around a bit, he stands for a time at a window just watching the people walking around outside. His father comes to visit him later:

“You will not be able to read for about ten days. He told me he will know by then about the scar tissue.”

“I’ll be happy to be out of this hospital,” I said. “I walked around a little today and saw the people on the street outside.”

My father looked at me and didn’t say anything.

“I wish I was outside now,” I said. “I envy them being able to walk around like that. They don’t know how lucky they are.”

“No one knows he is fortunate until he becomes unfortunate,” my father said quietly. “That is the way the world is.”

Reuven did not realize the fortune of his sight in both eyes until the sight in one was lost for a time. The people walking outside the hospital, likewise, had no reason to realize their fortune. I did not quite realize the fortune – the gift – that simply walking was until I had an injury that kept it from me. In fact, what spurred this post was a thought on my drive home this evening…. “I want and need to go for a walk this evening — the weather is perfect, and the time outside in the world is just what I need. …. I can’t walk.” I immediately thought of this passage.

The thing is, as I thought about it and reread it, I realized that the opposite is equally true — and far more profound in my life right now than the inconvenience of temporarily not being able to walk easily or to run. The circumstance that nearly took Reuven’s vision in one eye gave him the gift of a priceless friendship. Reuven may not have realized the gift his sight was until it was lost for a time. He also did not realize how unfortunate he was in his lack of a friendship such as developed with Danny until he experienced it. While he only had one eye to see with, he began to see the essential far more clearly.

Treasures come into our lives when we least expect them, even in the midst of the most unlikely of circumstances.

This is a post that begs for edits….I’ve written this very fast as I felt compelled to get my thoughts written out even if in a rough form.

Inexpressible Comfort of Feeling Safe

/ Cheryl / Leave a comment
Oh, the comfort —the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person —having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; knowing that a faithful hand will take a sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
D. M. M. Craik, A Life for a Life

 

These words, with the deep truth they convey, need no elaboration from me. When I came across them for the first time, I had heard neither of the novel nor the author. Not surprisingly, it was quickly clear that she was primarily a poet. I will not likely do any more research or reading; this short passage is more than enough for me.

Houses in Your Heart

/ Cheryl / Leave a comment

“Maybe there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends – maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.”

~ It by Stephen King

I have never read a novel or short story by Stephen King. Ever. It is unlikely that I ever will because that level of horror and darkness would trigger my imagination in unpleasant ways (understatement). That said, he has imbedded within his writing truths that I find beautiful. I am thankful for a friend who shares these gems with me including this one. I did find a synopsis of the novel so that I could understand the context of this quote, at least a bit. No, I will never read the full book. Ever.

At different points in my life, I have thought about what friendship is, about what a friend is – and what a friend is not. This image of “people who build their houses in your heart” is beautiful to me. So, I am imagining what kinds of houses these might be because not all friendships are the same. In my own life, there are some who because of life pathways have merely pitched a tent in my heart for a time. A few of these friends have left an imprint on my heart that will forever be part of who I am. A piece of the tent will always be with me. I am pretty sure we all have had a few tents pitched in their hearts.

Others build more permanent structures, cabins perhaps [I really like cabins], but may merge into and out of our day-to-day lives. These are the friends whom we might not see for a year or more yet that lapse in time does not diminish the bond whatsoever. I am thinking of the cabins that surround many of Michigan’s lakes, cabins I visited as a child. They sit empty for much of the year, but are opened up to life and laughter and shared moments every summer.

Other people have real and permanent homes with solid foundations in our hearts – cozy houses with fireplaces and comfy chairs, yards and trees and flowers, with back doors we know are always open for us. We may or may not see these friends everyday, but we know they are always there, and they know we are always there too.

For any of these houses to be built in our hearts, we must have our hearts open. Many of us go through seasons when we want to put up a “No Lots Available” sign, and we can do this on our faces without realizing it. In opening our hearts to people, to friendship, there is a vulnerability that can be scary, especially when we have been hurt. It can also be deeply humbling when we find a person’s house just seems to appear without warning, a house and a friend we cannot imagine was ever not in the neighborhood of our heart.