Friends, Nails and Fences

The other day I was asked what I regarded as precious and valuable in my life. In order of priority, here's what I said: my children, my friends, my independence. I would never give up any of these. 

Instinctively said. 

Interesting because in spite of all the many [ridiculous] choices I have made, I think I choose my friends with great care. And although I have often lost touch with some friends, many have come back into my life - and we resumed our friendship as though no time had lapsed.

Amongst those that I am in touch with, two have been in the orbit since I was perhaps 2--4 years old. One of them lives in the US, the other in Copenhagen. Then there are some from school - with whom there was a strong basketball connection which spread to other areas of discovery. Literature in college still connects so many of us - now all pretending to be grown-ups, but deep down not  a day older than we were 25 years ago.

And just as precious are the friends I've made post college, some of whom I have travelled all over country with on mad weekend/holiday jaunts on journeys and adventures which firmed up our spines. There are some heavier footprints on the sand too - these were made when they were carrying me through the many crises I've had to face. And in the recent past. friendship circles have become  emotional communes... and sometimes, like last night when Tyger suddenly fell ill, the support is nothing short of humbling.

There have been arguments, tears, pain - but all of that was far outweighed by all the fun we have had together, and continue to have whenever and wherever latitudes meet. 

So, in appreciation of every bit of meaning that my friends add to my life, I post this beautiful story, which was sent to me by a friend this morning:

NAIL IN THE FENCE

http://www.catsprn.com/nail_in_the_fence.htm

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper.  His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.  The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence.  Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down.  He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.


Finally, the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all.  He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.


The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.  The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.  He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence.  The fence will never be the same.  When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one.  You can put a knife in a man and draw it out.  It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there."


A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.  Friends are very rare jewels, indeed.  They make you smile and encourage you to succeed.  They lend an ear, they share words of praise and they always want to open their hearts to us.