A Grand Circle Story
Prologue
Phoenix, Arizona, 1993
Dear Jen,
What a great trip! What a great time I had … we all had. We were fortunate to be there. We accomplished what we set out to do, serving the church community we visited and sharing the word of Christ. We shared our lives through our words, our music and our deeds, and we touched the lives of many people.
As you might expect, I am not writing to you out of the blue; I have a story I want to share with you, an odyssey that occurred over the past two years. You may not be aware of it, but you were a principal player in the story as was Drew.
Enough with the preliminaries, on with the story.
* * * * *
Two years ago, before dawn on the first Saturday in June, I stood in a church parking lot in Phoenix and watched a young sophomore girl set off for Wyoming on a two-week mission trip. Waves of heat lapped at our legs in the final vestige of the previous day’s baking. The group was restless waiting for final packing, list checkers checking and re-checking lists; and parents, friends and kids hugging goodbye. Pacing next to one of the vans, the young girl was visibly tense, not agitated, just not at peace. I cannot remember if I even knew her at that time though surely we had met. She was beyond quiet, almost withdrawn.
There was a hubbub of final goodbyes, unprepared freshmen making last dashes to the soda machine for one more addition to the un-prescribed daily requirement of junk food, and good-natured jockeying for seating positions in the vans. I watched a young man stride toward her. He walked with the relaxed assurance of a new high school graduate. I had followed his ascendance to manhood.
He had accepted a scholarship to an out of state university. He had played, worked, studied, followed, and lead. He had grabbed the dragon’s tail and ridden it for six years. His future was defined at least for that moment. The young man had not slain the dragon; he had just befriended it. The dragon had become his companion conquered by a primary weapon of the Christian warrior, friendship. Cloaked in the armor of love, friendship had become his sword.
As he neared, her senses perked, and she focused on his approach. He reached out, as did she, and took her in his arms enveloping her in a warm, bodacious hug. Her tension melted into the pavement to be reclaimed by the tides of summer. He took her hand as they climbed into the van, and she nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He stretched long, muscular legs attached at the ends by outsized feet onto an ice chest positioned between the two front seats. He was established in the pecking order of the tribe; he was a senior assured prime seating
Together with pillows, music, and gargantuan amounts of junk food, they awaited the leaving. They knew they would have to pile back out of the van once more when the assembly gathered in prayer. Okay with them, their position was established.
They spent the two weeks together building on a relationship begun that year. They walked hand in hand, laughed together, played Frisbee, and gave each other piggyback rides. They lay together in the cool grass at a rest stop in Colorado. The pair for they were not a couple, joined hands in prayer each morning and evening, gave each other back rubs, and lay next to each other at night at the foot of the stairs in the church where they stayed. That spot marked the demarcation between the sleeping quarters of the girls and that of the boys.
It was two weeks of satisfying work, meditation, celebration, and all too many egg bake breakfasts. Their friendship was trusting and patient, not saddled by jealousy and pettiness common to teens. They had jobs of their own and responsibilities to the group. During the day the group labored. At night and on Sundays they drove to neighboring towns to perform the musical mostly in churches, and were paid with wonderful potluck dinners common to rural communities. Throughout the trip they sought out each other and shared their time together. They sang together at Red Rocks Amphitheatre and rode together in the van and on the roller coasters at Elich Gardens in Denver.
In the blink of a fortnight the young knight gave the gift of friendship to a saddened, timid maiden who at that time in her life desperately needed a friend.
* * * * *
As you have guessed, Jen, you were the maiden and the knight was Andrew. To have been on that trip was in itself a blessing to me. To have witnessed those events was a gift, the value of which I can barely understand. I will not soon forget upon our return the feeling of love and acceptance that welled in me as you hugged me so tightly after the final musical at our church. Your love and friendship for Drew spilled over onto me.
The story does not end there. Nor may it ever for the final scene is yet been played. A second chapter to the odyssey continued two years later.
The retelling of this is more subject to my conjecture. It was not until the trip was over that I gained awareness of what I had seen. Did what I thought I saw actually take place, or is it just the prattling of an old man’s imagination? Only you can determine the heroine status of the main character.
* * * * *
The scene unfolded in a manner reminiscent of the earlier chapter. Thirty plus members of the Logos clan once again gathered in the church parking lot in west Phoenix. They were fresh from the rigor of final exams and the pleasures of graduation. Along with their advisors they prepared to wave goodbye to grateful parents and siblings joyous in the prospect of two peaceful weeks alone.
The time-honored leaving protocols pre-staged another work trip. It wasn’t as though they had not done this before. The trip to Bishop, California, was called The Big Picture, the name of that year’s musical. It was the latest in a history of work trips and musicals dating back seventeen years, longer than half of the group’s members.
The former sophomore maiden of sixteen was a graduated senior of eighteen and accorded all the rights and privileges of her accomplishments and station. This time she would be going off to college in the fall. She was full of energy or as much as any teen can be at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning.
I took little notice of her that morning or for the first couple of days. I rode out on the first leg in the equipment truck. I was still recovering from being only one day removed from the school year, and concerned with what to do with my car. The freshmen were better organized than I.
Only after we arrived in Bishop did I become aware of her. She was sharing a lot of time with a hyper sophomore making his second trip. Again, the group was painting a church as well as rebuilding a porch, fixing ancient plumbing, and remodeling the pastor’s study. After work each day the group drove into town to use the public showers, changed clothes, and headed off to perform. Including performances while traveling, the group presented The Big Picture over twenty times. Throughout it all she and Tony sat together, walked together, talked, laughed, hugged, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Together they rode in the van and on the rides at Magic Mountain. It was déjà vu only this time she was sharing the gift of friendship.
She was passing the gift to another, and he seemed but vaguely aware of the event. Was she even aware of her actions? It could not have been just a coincidence. Was it the illusion of coincidence? She took some flak from some of the others, girls in particular, and she and Tony were the subject of rumoring. Given that circumstance, she must have been cognizant of her actions. Only she can affirm or deny that. The passing of the gift had made the grand circle. It was a legacy of the senior will as real as handing down painted hats and torn boxer shorts.
It had to be more than coincidence that for a number of years when Andrew returned to Phoenix, there were two women he made a point of visiting; she was one of them. This circle of events is yet to close. Tony’s future will determine the next chapter.
* * * * *
Epilogue
Jen,
You were party to a special gift, the gift of friendship, but an even greater gift was the act of love in sharing it with another. You know as much about friendship and what being a friend means as anyone your age that I know. You stuck by a girlfriend at times when no one else would. You built relationships that last a lifetime. You acted in the truest sense of Christian spirit. You sowed seeds of joy that will mature and affect other’s lives for who knows how long. It was my joy to share the experience.
Journey on in the peace that I know you found,
Lovingly,
Michael
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