I went to Chicago to meet with friends from long ago. In times past, we came together at least once a year, but it has been a long while — perhaps two decades — since all gathered in one place at one time. We were there because one of our number was being honored.
Two others spent hours working telephones and e-mail to make sure everyone knew about the occasion.
It was more than a reunion, because we were more than classmates. We were friends. We had worked together, dined together, traveled together and laughed together. Someone said a friend is the person you call to bail you out, but a true friend is the person sitting in the cell with you saying: "Wow! Did we have a great time or what!"
The folks who gathered in Chicago are true friends.
The experience comes to mind at this season of the year when we are supposed to look beyond ourselves and show appreciation to others.
Friendship may be the greatest gift one can give . . . or receive.
Friendship comes in all forms. No two friendships are alike. A husband and wife must love one another, but they should also be friends. There's a difference. And a parent must be a parent. He or she can never be the same kind of friend as the child's peers — and should not try. But parent-to-child friendship is equally important.
The friends I met in Chicago were friends who helped validate my life. Without saying a word, they told me that what I did for many years had value . . . because they were doing the same thing. I knew they were good individuals, capable people. My self-image reflected their worthiness. Seeing them again revived that old sense of personal value. Is there a more important gift a friend can give?
I have friends whose names I don't even know. They work at a fast food restaurant I frequent often. We don't speak the same language.
But when I walk in, they smile, as if to say: We know you, and it's good to see you today. I go there for the smiles as much as for the food. I have other friends in the building elevator, at the pharmacy, in the deli where I go for lunch, at the car repair shop and elsewhere. I genuinely enjoy seeing those familiar faces. That is another component of friendship — familiarity.
My wife is the friendliest person in the world. She strikes up conversations with total strangers all the time. Sometimes, her friendliness startles our daughter, who hasn't yet learned to be enough like her mother. But the new friends my wife makes always walk away feeling better about themselves. My wife accepts these instant friends just as they are; she does not judge them and does not expect them to judge her. That's friendship on a very rudimentary but important level.
I am fortunate enough to have friends who are very successful. They represent a broad range of what we think of as success — wealth, service, religion and so on. One of them built his success on friendship. Even today, in his 90th year, he never has lunch alone, but always with others. Often, he is joined by one of his oldest friends — also in his 90th year. They don't say much, but you can see the challenges of age vanish in that 50-year friendship. Some friendships make time stand still.
Be a friend this holiday season. Reach out to someone you haven't contacted in a long while. Just hearing from you will be a gift of lasting value.
Make it a point, also, to be a friend to strangers. It's easier than you think. What you say is not important. The fact that you speak at all adds value to the other person's life — and your own.
Finally, my holiday wish for each person who sees these words is that a friend from the past will make a phone call, or send a card with a note, or write a letter, or compose an e-mail especially for you . . . and that you will feel the meaning of friendship, the power of friendship, and the joy of friendship. Just as I did in Chicago.
G. Donald Gale is president of Words, Words, Words, Inc. He was formerly editorial director at KSL. He earned a Ph.D. at the University of Utah and was awarded an honorary doctorate by Southern Utah University. E-mail: dongale@words3.com