Though only 7 and 8 years old, we were real friends—the genuine article; reaching into some new but deep reference of wisdom to console each other when times were particularly bad, laughing at any simple thing that tickled us as we played in the sun, her being kind enough to share the small, rare supply of candy she would sometimes have, me being unkind enough to accept.
We parted when I was 10—her family off to some promise of a new beginning and measure of deliverance. I missed her a lot but still didn't realize just how much until the years had gone by some. Now, when I think of her, I am taken with a deep, unexpectedly powerful hope that things turned out ok—for my friend Emma.
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Gorgeous Little Girl Andi Berger