Those we meet.

Do we not all recall those souls who so infinitely touched our lives, with warmth and affection? Some people step in briefly, love us deeply, then depart. These are the people that were somehow able to see through our walls, gently climb them, and sit with us in our private sanctuary. They sought only to be with us, help us along the way. There are those who do not even realize what they have done, but we will always remember them. Their memory gives us strength.

Of course there are those who seek to break our walls, who are careless and trample our flower gardens, but this story is not about them. They are projects for us to mend another time.

There are many, and yet choice and precious few, who had touched my life so dearly. The first I remember so dearly, is a seminary teacher. For a semester, he answered each and every one of my questions, no matter how silly, or redundant. It became a daily ritual. School ended, and he was gone. It was his time to leave, but his mark was, for me, earth shaking. I started to become human. I was free from the bonds of my own world inside my head. If there existed a time line filled with people and the time they spent changing me, you would never see a gap. When one would physically leave, there was almost immediately another to "take their place."

The person you are, and the person I am, is the result of someone else's handy work. It is impossible to move through life and be completely obvlivious to others. The most obvious example, your parents. No matter what you say, you wouldn't be here if it weren't for them. From each person in the store with you, to the driver 3 cars in front of you, they make a difference. The difference may be a step to the left, or 10 seconds later at your destination. But we rarely think of these people, or hardly consider their existence.

There is never a day that passes that my thoughts are not turned to one of the precious people who shaped my life into what it is now. Most obvious; I would not sing. I would not be typing this now. Considering any alternative path to my life is unbearable, and I am glad I do not even have think of it.

I love, deeply, dearly, eternally, those I am privileged to call friend. To be considered another's friend, is to me the highest title I can receive. Even to be a wife and a mother. Terms used too lightly now. A wife is any woman who legally ties herself to a man. A mother can be any woman who gives birth. But to be the best friend to my husband, the best friend to my child, is something that can never be replaced. "We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence." - Joseph Roux

And who could glory too much in the Lord? Say too much of His goodness, Mercy and Longsuffering. Our eternal Friend. Our ever loving Heavenly Father, and His son, our Best Friend, Jesus the Christ. Think of the joy, when you reach heaven and you hear Christ say, "I present unto the Father, my friend."

The time may come when we must depart from one-another. There are such good-byes I know are drawing ever near. I will miss them. A piece of my heart will always be with them. No, they can not be replaced, and I rejoice in the memories. I wish for many more to come.

We all have much to learn. People to meet. People to play with! People to hold. People to love. I hope to be for them, what they are for me.