Be An Aliyah Kind Of Friend
It’s probably evident to most who read my work that I don’t think we adults pay close enough attention to what children (of all ages) have to teach us about matters of the heart, which, in the end, are all that matters. Last weekend was a case in point. After another predictably “adventurous” round of air travel that got me to Kansas City at 2:30 a.m. on Saturday morning (don’t ask), a $56 5-mile Uber ride to a Super 8 near-the-airport motel (enough said!), 3 hours of “sleep” on the equivalent of a slab of concrete, and a two-hour drive, I arrived in Manhattan, Kansas to celebrate my grandson, Jake’s 9th birthday – an event I wouldn’t have missed for anything in the world.
As I walked through the door, I was greeted by Jake and his best friend, Aliyah. While I’d heard a lot about Aliyah over the past few years, even heard her voice a time or two when Jake called her during summer visits to Orlando to report on all the fun he was having, she and I had never met, nor had I ever had the privilege of seeing her and Jake together. But, this past weekend, I had a front row seat to the two of them for much of the two days we all spent celebrating Jake and I was captivated, because it was immediately apparent to my heart that they were teaching a master class on what friendship, in its purest form, is meant to look, feel, and sound like and I was all in.
Yes, Aliyah is a classmate, playmate, and Lego-mate. Like Jake, she is bright beyond her years, quirky, and makes the Energizer Bunny look sloth-like. But, where Jake is concerned, Aliyah listens carefully and patiently, is interested in what he thinks, and curious about why he thinks the way he does. She is also kind, soft, thoughtful, compassionate, encouraging, and empathetic – in her words and actions – because she understands that Jake shares her sensitivity, and she cares (deeply and protectively) about his feelings. She is engaged and attentive – and they never tire of each other. In fact, when they have to say goodbye, there is a subtle sense of sadness, as there should be.
Aliyah is a difference-maker in Jake’s life - and he in hers. And, it's not because someone taught them how to be an extraordinary friend. It's because their hearts - our hearts - yearn for connection like that and intuitively know where to find and how to nurture it.
As I headed back to Kansas City early Monday morning and reflected on my visit, I wondered why Jake and Aliyah’s friendship had touched me as profoundly as it did. Why, more than once, I caught a tear (or two) slipping down the sides of my face. Part of it likely was my realizing how much I would have given up to have had a friend like Aliyah when I was 9 years-old and already far more familiar with loneliness than any 9-year-old should be. But another part - the bigger, more beautiful part – no doubt stemmed from the realization that we all have the capacity to be and be the beneficiaries of an Aliyah kind of friend. Imagine that. Now imagine acting on it. I did - and I smiled all the way back to Miami!
