I saw an old friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. I’d heard that numerous people had snubbed him over the years. I had a small grudge against him myself. But nothing insurmountable.

Let’s have coffee, I said.

We ordered coffee and muffins. We chatted. We reminisced. We laughed. We deconstructed the news. An hour flew by.

I gladly paid.

We shook hands.

It was great talking with you, he said.

I felt good and happy with the reconnection. A grudge buried. A fraught friendship reborn.

(Ain’t love a beautiful thing? It’s more than affection. It’s noticing and tending to the other. It’s mending wounds.)

I’d done good. I’d done a good thing. I felt an angel pat me on the back. I was walking on air.

Two hours later, I got an email from him:

l do not want your friendship anymore. Fifteen years ago your friends said hurtful things about me, and being with you brings that back. And please, no can-we-talk-it-out request. You’re good at dainty zingers.

(GULP.)

You’re good at dainty zingers.

WHAT?!

What do you call what you’re good at, buster? You just blew up a 20-year friendship over dainty zingers?! Dainty. Zingers. Really?! No wonder so many people despise you and your thin skin. It’s a good thing Jesus loves you because nobody else does. Rot in hell, you ungrateful piece of baloney.

I could have sent that wad of dainty zingers as my reply. But I didn’t. Instead, I replied:

Heard.

And let it go at that.

After all, he’s right. I do sting others with dainty zingers—unmaliciously perhaps, but still they can hurt. Dainty zingers add up and up and up and up until…well, until a friendship blows up.

My bad.

I confess.

I’m guilty.

In the wake of my old friend’s admonition, I resolved to sheath my zingers and never sling another, ever again. Never again.

I can do better.

I will do better.

I must do better.

Last week a new acquaintance introduced me to his wife. “I’d like you to meet my beautiful wife.”

I shook her hand and then looked at him: So she’s your beautiful wife? What’s your other one look like?

(OOPS.)

Can leopards change their spots?

Can zebras change their stripes?

Can people change their ways?

Wish me luck.

(And then duck.)

_______________________

See Paula’s photo on home page.  Scroll down to “visual explorations.” Posted August 11, 2024

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