“Friends have things in common,” Bongo said. "And there you go. Your answer in five words. See you in the a.m., pal."
I thought about her reply. "But what do you and I really have in common, when you get right down to it?"
With a loud exhale, Bongo flew to the ground. "Okay. I'm thoroughly awake now, thank you very much. What's this all about?"
“Just an idea.”
"Here's an idea for you: Ideas are a bad idea," said Bongo. "Especially if someone is in busybody mode. I'm lookin' at you, Red."
“Back to my question. Why are we friends?"
“Okay, fine. Let me think on it for a minute.”
Bongo walked in a slow circle around my trunk, considering. I love the way birds move, so unlike trees. We bend with the wind. We're graceful and unhurried. Birds, on the other hand, move in flits and twitches. Their heads whip from side to side, as if they've just heard astonishing news.
Bongo paused. "Well, to begin with, you're my home. And I'm your tenant."
"But that's not really a reason for us to be friends. I've had residents I wasn't particularly fond of."
"That squirrel? What was his name? Squinch? The one with bad breath?"
"It's not important."
"Knew it was Squinch."
"Bongo," I said. "Please focus."
Bongo gazed up at me. "We're friends because we're friends, Red. Isn't that enough?" Her voice was small and sweet—not her usual get-to-the-point crow tone.
"You're right," I said. "But suppose two people needed to be friends. How would you make that happen?"
"Maybe . . . get them together, doing something. They yak, share a laugh. Voilà. Friendship. Am I right?"
"Hmm."
"I don't like it when you hmm. Hmm-ing leads to ideas."
"You can go back to sleep, Bongo. Thanks for talking. You're a good friend."
"Likewise." Bongo flew back up to her nest. "Hey, be sure to let me sleep in."
Could it be the nature of friendship, something friendship serves as a means for that is more than the friendliness, is what makes friendship possible? That friendship, dare I say, is sacramental? Hence, something in one is drawn to the same something in the other; yet, the something is an enigma, for it is not merely an attraction one for the other. And what finds the two is what drew persons to the Sage, the power of being with, not in the same physical space, but sharing the same heart-space.
Continued... |
