That's What Friends Do

[Guest guest]

That's What Friends Do

by: T. Suzanne Eller, , Source Unknown

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 breast cancer. I was

32, the mother of three beautiful young children, and scared. The

cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics 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.

The last day of my hospital stay, the door darkened 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 September the

doctor will declare me cured. I've seen my children graduate from

high school and enter college.

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.