In kindergarten your idea of a good friend
was the person who let you have the red
crayon
when all that was left
was the ugly black one.
In first grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person who went to the bathroom with you
and held your hand
as you walked through the scary halls.
In second grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person who helped you
stand up to the class bully.
In third grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person who shared their lunch with
you
when you forgot yours on the bus.
In fourth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person who was willing
to switch square dancing partners in gym
so you wouldn't have to be stuck
do-si-do-ing
with Nasty Toby or Smelly Lee.
In fifth grade
your idea of a friend
was the person
who saved a seat
on the back of the bus for you.
In sixth grade
your idea of a friend
was the person who went up to Lee or Toby,
(your new crush)
and asked them to dance with you,
so that if they said no
you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
In seventh grade
your idea of a friend
was the person
who let you copy the social studies
homework
from the night before.
In eighth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and
old baseball
but didn't laugh at you when you finished
and broke into tears.
In ninth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who would go to a party thrown by a senior
so you wouldn't wind up being
the only freshman there.
In tenth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who changed their schedule
so you would have someone
to sit with at lunch.
In eleventh grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who gave you rides in their new car,
convinced your parents that you shouldn't be
grounded,
consoled you when you broke up with Nick
or Lee
or Toby,
and found you a date to the prom.
In twelfth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who helped you pick out a college,
assured you that you would get into that
college,
helped you deal with your parents
who were having a hard time adjusting
to the idea of letting you go...
At graduation
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who was crying on the inside
but managed the biggest smile one could
give
as they congratulated you.
The summer after twelfth grade
your idea of a good friend
was the person
who helped you clean up
the bottles from that party,
helped you sneak out of the house
when you just couldn't deal with your
parents,
assured you that now,
that you and Nick or you and Toby or you
and...
were back together,
you could make it through anything,
helped you pack up for college
and just silently hugged you
as you looked through blurry eyes
at 18 years of memories
you were leaving behind,
and finally on those last days of
childhood,
went out of their way to give you
reassurance that you would make it in
college
as well as you had these past 18 years,
and most importantly sent you off to
college
knowing you were loved.
Now,
your idea of a good friend
is still the person
who gives you the better of the two
choices,
holds your hand when you're scared,
helps you fight off those
who try to take advantage of you,
thinks of you at times
when you are not there,
reminds you of what you have forgotten,
helps you put the past behind you
but understands when you need to hold on
to it a little longer,
stays with you so that you have confidence,
goes out of their way
to make time for you,
helps you clear up your mistakes,
helps you deal with pressure from others,
smiles for you when they are sad,
helps you become a better person,
and most importantly loves you.
DEFINITION OF A FRIEND
A friend should be radical.
They should love you when you're unlovable,
Hug you when you're unhuggable,
And bear you when you're unbearable.
A friend should be fanatical.
They should cheer when the whole world boos.
Dance when you get good news,
and cry when you cry too.
But most of all a friend should be mathematical.
They should multiply the joy,
Divide the sorrow, Subtract the past,
and Add to tomorrow.
Calculate the need deep in your heart,
and always be bigger than the sum of all their parts.
Home!