“make new friends but keep the old; one is silver, and the other is gold,” so goes the words of an old nursery rhyme.
if i was a tree, then friends are my roots. the longer a person has been my friend, the more meaning that person gives to my life as a human being. my siblings and my cousins who i grew up — played and fought — with are the strongest roots i have.
i have lost contact with almost all my friends in the neighbourhood i grew up in. i have very few classmates from grade school i still have contact with (mostly in facebook;)
the same is true with my classmates from high school — i can count them all together with the fingers of both my hands.
whenever i lose any of my roots — my friends — to distance or to destruction, a part of me withers… dies. one of my high school classmates — a friend i follow on facebook — just recently passed away.
outside of family relations, viz., my wife, my daughters, my in-laws, nieces and nephews, etc., the people i relate to as friends today are largely from church — my former and present church — and the new neighbourhood of 8 years where my family has taken residence.
my christian friends from my present church are from two groups: filipinos from my former church, and chinese (top sketch and photo below) from this church.
i also account them now as my ‘old’ and ‘new’ friends.
these are my new roots, the depth of their ingress is not measured by how long they have been my friends, but by their love and loyalty, their trust and truthfulness. they are the people i often see, talk to, and touch; they give the most meaning to my life as a human being
when this tree is felled; somewhere, a root withers… dies.