I Hope I Have Friends Like This

I arrived early at church, and although Mass didn’t start for twenty minutes, several people were already seated. I went up to the fifth pew and sat down. I noticed a woman I knew, Theresa, was sitting at the other end. We smiled a greeting and honored the silence. In front of me were two older women seated close to one another, obviously friends. I did not know their names yet, but I often saw them in church.  I noticed many of the early arrivals were of my age; no other obligations prevented us from arriving early.

The air conditioning blew frigid air, and I was grateful for my long-sleeved shirt. One of the two women in front of me wore a cute felt hat that I assumed was for fashion, but would soon learn was for warmth. This well-dressed woman made eye contact with Theresa, rubbed her shoulders, shivered, and mouthed, “It’s cold in here.” Theresa immediately stretched over the back of the pew and gave her cold friend a white sweater. Theresa helped put it over the shivering woman’s shoulders with comforting tenderness. I leaned toward Theresa and complimented her on the kindness shown. Theresa confessed to having known Margaret, her chilly friend, for a “hundred” years, and she had been cold for “ninety”. 

Mass began and, as usual, was beautiful and solemn, but Margaret’s quaking body language distracted and concerned me. Every time the cool air kicked on she was visibly cold and uncomfortable. As the congregation knelt for prayer, Margaret pushed her skinny body closer to her friend. She whispered words of freezing despair and pulled her hat over her ears.

And then it happened. I lost track of what the priest was saying and doing on the altar, as I was absorbed in the act of mercy happening right in front of me. Jesus at work through one old friend to another. In this cool, prayerful church, I watched the dear friend sitting next to Margaret remove her jacket and wrap it around Margaret’s tense back. This woman, whose name I didn’t know, continued rubbing the back of her cold companion to bring warmth. I’ll bet she was cold, too, but the offering of her coat warmed my heart and brought the reality of works of mercy to life. It was love in action.

Finally, we stood in prayer, and with a little movement, Margaret began to warm enough to relax her shoulders a bit. After Mass concluded, she turned to me to apologize for any disruption. I introduced myself, never learning Margaret’s friend’s name. Theresa slid down the pew towards us. As we talked, it became obvious what these three friends shared in common - the Church community and their love of God. Dare I say we need more of this? When we walked out of the church, I told Margaret that I hoped and prayed I had friends who would show me the same kindness and care her sweater-sharing, back-rubbing warm buddies had displayed.

Are you lucky enough to have friends like this in your life? Because a life without friendship is a cold life, indeed. Many of us have moved into the retirement portion of our lives, and along with not working, we have less constant contact with people. Our social network might be diminished. Making new friends in the third part of life can prove challenging, but the rewards are plentiful. Whether Church, the golf course, or a new neighborhood, opportunities are out there if we are brave enough to say “Hello”.

Oh, did I mention that the next time I saw Margaret in church, she was wearing a knee-length, down-filled parka along with her cute felt hat!

Bit by bit, that’s all she wrote…