Today's Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

The Forgotten Friend

By Judith Burnett Schneider

It was my tenth birthday - double digits - and I would

have the biggest party ever. The guest list, which I kept

at the back of my homework assignment folder, began with a

few close friends. But in the two weeks before that

special Friday night, it had quickly grown from seven girls

to a whopping total of seventeen. Nearly every girl in my

fifth-grade class had been invited to sleep over at my

house for a big celebration. I was especially happy when

each guest I invited excitedly accepted the invitation. It

would be a night of scary stories, pizza and lots of

presents. But as I later realized, I would truly treasure

only one gift I received that night.

The family room was a flurry of shouts and bursts of

laughter. We had just finished a game of Twister and were

lining up for the limbo when the doorbell rang. I hardly

paid attention to who might be at the door. What did it

matter, really? Everyone I liked from school was there, in

my family room, preparing to lean under the stick held by

my two sisters.

" Judy, come here for a minute, " Mom called from the

front door.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged to my friends as if to

say, 'Now who would dare bother me at a time like this?'

What I really wanted to say was, 'It's tough being

popular!'

I rounded the bend toward the front door, then

stopped. I know my mouth dropped open and I could feel my

face turning red, for there on the front porch stood

Westly - the quiet girl who sat next to me in music class -

and she was holding a gift.

I thought about the growing list in the back of my

assignment folder. How had I forgotten to invite ?

I remembered that I only added a name to the list when

someone had shown an interest in me (like kids do when they

know someone is having a party and they don't want to be

left out). But had never done that. Never once had

she asked me about my birthday party. Never once did she

squeeze into the kids surrounding me at lunch time. And

once she even helped me carry my backpack while I lugged my

science project to our third-floor classroom.

I guess I had forgotten to invite her simply because

she wasn't pushing to be invited. I accepted the gift from

and asked her to join the party.

" I can't stay, " she said, looking down. " My dad's

waiting in the car. "

" Can you come in for a little while? " I nearly begged.

By now I felt pretty bad about forgetting to invite her and

really did want her to stay.

" Thanks, but I have to go, " she said, turning toward

the door. " See you Monday. "

I stood in the foyer with 's gift in my hands and

an empty feeling in my heart.

I didn't open the gift until hours after the party had

ended. Hours after the games, the food, the ghost stories,

the pillow fights, the pranks on those first to fall asleep

and the snores.

Inside the small box was a ceramic tabby cat about

three inches tall with its tail in the air. In my mind, it

was the best gift I had received, even though I was never

really into cats. I later found out that the figurine

looked exactly like 's cat, Seymour.

I didn't know it then, but now I realize that

was my one true childhood friend. While the other girls

drifted away, was always there for me, ever loyal and

supportive. She was an unconditional friend who stood by

me, always encouraging and understanding me.

Although I'll always feel bad about forgetting her, I

also realize that I might not have discovered as a

friend had I remembered to invite her to that unforgettable

tenth birthday party.