The postmistress delivered three things for me today. I love getting mail. I do not love the postal service, and I dare say that I never will, but it made me so happy today to see my first issue of the Oxford American (Christmas present from little sister), a thank-you letter from Compassion International for my donation to help educate impoverished mothers, and a darling note from my dear friend, the soon-to-be doctor of whatever you do in a lab.
As we move away from our years of undergraduate learning, the correspondences become less frequent. And this is as natural as it is sad. Because in reading her precious hand-written words, sentiments, and news, I smiled as each sentence reminded me why we were and are friends. All of my friends are different, and different, too, are the reasons we are friends. Each one has something unique that connected with me, and I feel that is a testament to how complex a person can be. That each friend is in some way a representation of the many compartments that make up a soul. It is a beautiful realization that revives my gratitude for each friend I have ever had.
This particular friend is the one with whom I write letters, adore My Fair Lady and Anne of Green Gables, dream of Paris, and quote old movies. We are, as Anne would say, kindred spirits. A term people don't put as much thought into as they should. Because it matters greatly that people acknowledge a kindred spirit. Such is not any friend, but more than a friend. Almost a soulmate. This person's soul, was made for yours, in a way. Not necessarily to be a perfect fit for every aspect. But for this aspect or that aspect, there is no one better. Who are your kindred spirits? Treat them for the treasures that they are.