That's What Friends Do

**Learning Angel** Posts : 94 Meerut Vote : 0

That's What Friends Do

That's What Friends Do - By T. Suzanne Eller

Jack tossed the papers on my desk -- his eyebrows knit into a straight line as he glared at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He
jabbed a finger at the proposal. "Next time you want to change
anything, ask me first," he said, turning on his heels and leaving me
stewing in anger.

How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I
had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar -- something I
thought I was paid to do.

It's not that I hadn't been warned.
The other women, who had served in my place before me, called him names
I couldn't repeat. One co-worker took me aside the first day. "He's
personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm,"
she whispered.

As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. It
was against everything I believed in -- turn the other cheek and love
your enemies. But Jack quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek
turned his way. I prayed about it, but to be honest, I wanted to put
him in his place, not love him.

One day, another of his episodes
left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if
needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door
and Jack glanced up.

"What?" he said abruptly.

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.

I
sat across from him. "Jack, the way you've been treating me is wrong.
I've never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it's
wrong, and it's wrong for me to allow it to continue," I said. Jack
snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes
briefly. God help me, I prayed.

"I want to make you a promise. I
will be a friend," I said. "I will treat you as you deserve to be
treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that," I said.
"Everybody does." I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind
me.

Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and
letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and the corrected
versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day
and left a batch on Jack's desk. Another day I left a note. "Hope your
day is going great," it read.

Over the next few weeks, Jack
reappeared. He was reserved, but there were no other episodes.
Co-workers cornered me in the break room.

"Guess you got to Jack," they said. "You must have told him off good." I shook my head.

"Jack
and I are becoming friends," I said in faith. I refused to talk about
him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall, I smiled at him. After all,
that's what friends do.

One year after our "talk", I discovered
I had cancer. I was 32, the mother of three beautiful young children,
and scared. The cancer I had were not great for long-term survival.
After surgery, I visited with friends and loved ones who tried to find
the right words to say. No one knew what to say. Many said the wrong
things. Others wept, and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope.

One
day, the door darkened in my small hospital room and Jack stood
awkwardly on the threshold. I waved him in with a smile and he walked
over to my bed and, without a word, placed a bundle beside me. Inside
lay several bulbs.

"Tulips," he said.

I smiled, not understanding.

He
cleared his throat. "If you plant them when you get home, they'll come
up next spring." He shuffled his feet. "I just wanted you to know that
I think you'll be there to see them when they come up."

Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand. "Thank you," I whispered.

Jack
grasped my hand and gruffly replied, "You're welcome. You can't see it
now, but next spring you'll see the colors I picked out for you." He
turned and left without a word.

I have seen those red and white
striped tulips push through the soil every spring for over ten years
now. In fact, this past September the doctor declared me cured. I've
seen my children graduate from high school and enter college. I've
celebrated twenty-two years of marriage with my husband.

In a moment when I prayed for just the right word, a man with very few words said all the right things.

After all, that's what friends do.

You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you
really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you
think you cannot do.
-- Eleanor Roosevelt

The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those
who intense football game look on and do nothing.
-- Albert Einstein