Someone new was in church today, and there was a Sunday School lesson on the Biblical story of Jonathan and David and comments made on the essence of friendship.
I told them of how one small decision to be of service, of my friend Lisa and me going together to visit a mutual friend’s child in the hospital in Oakland once a week, had grown our friendship and had led, a year later, to Lisa’s offer to watch my preschoolers while I did swim therapy for my newly-hit lupus to treat my sudden and severe arthritis, if I would watch her little boy in return. We did that morning trade-off for three years four and then five days a week, an immense amount of her time that I could never, ever possibly have asked for. And what a difference it made in my life!
The new woman came up to introduce herself afterwards:Â saying, she had heard the other side of that story.
Say what? What other side?
She told me she had just moved from Lisa’s ward and that Lisa had told the story of how she was profusely grateful for my help with her two-year-old back in the day.
I was going, wait, wait, there’s nothing I did that remotely compares to what she did!
Wow. Huh. It got me thinking how, with true acts of service, both do come away feeling like they were blessed the most of all. But you know what, Lisa? You still did way more.
Meantime, thank you all for all the anniversary wishes! Today is the actual day. And after thirty years, I still think we have the best honeymoon story ever.