Making Friends—Not Complicated, but It Does Take Some Effort

The following is a report by one of our interns.  It shows that real relationships can be formed, when we are willing to put forth the effort! 

The first time I met Fatima ‘accidentally’ as we were both at the street cross-walk. ‘That boy looks tired!’, I called out above the traffic noise, ‘. . . and this one’, I pointed to the one in my own baby carriage, ‘is hungry!’  Instantly we were into a conversation about nutrition and life in general, and agreed to meet for a cup of tea at a ‘Moms and Tots’ get-together in our local church. I kept the appointment—at the same time for some weeks, but she never showed up.

So What’s Going to Win Out—Disappointment, or Curiosity?

Four weeks later I decided to take the initiative, and went knocking on the door of her tailor shop. ‘She’s just gone out, but she’ll be back soon.’ I wait as long as my son can, and with a polite ‘I’ll-come-back-next-week, I'm out the door, thinking I’m more likely to catch her at a different time. But next week doesn’t work, either: her son fell and had to have stitches on his forehead, so she’s gone to the hospital. ‘She’ll be back tomorrow', I'm told.  Next day doesn't change things--'the stitches didn’t hold, so she took him back to ER’.  Two days later I dropped by again with a nice ‘Get Better Soon’ greeting card and some Halal candy, which I had to leave on the counter. Missed her again. By now I’m wondering if I’m not getting on peoples’ nerves—constantly showing up, and always at the wrong time. Maybe she doesn’t even remember me? I don’t think I even recall what she looked like.  On the one hand it’s probably my own impatience that’s bothering me—and the thought that it’s not really worth trying to make contact. But I’m still curious—why is it that we keep missing each other? Is the more to this than meets the eye?

A Friendship Grows

We didn’t connect the next couple of times, either, but finally I dropped in at the right time and she was very apologetic that it took so long. She thanked me for being so persistent, and invited me right away to her house—and served me a delicious mango juice drink. We had a great time together. The conversation eventually drifted to her handwork, and I expressed my appreciation for the delightful Pakistani women’s clothing I saw around me. As I got up to go, she promised me—‘insha’allah’—that she would get me one of their dresses. I thanked her, but I knew she would be busy during this month of fasting. She had a lot of wedding dresses to sew. Our next meeting was a week later during the Eid.* This time I dropped by with some friends and presents. She invited us in again, right in the middle of of all the business of her children getting dressed

for the evening celebration.

Wow—a Dress!

A week later she showed up—‘Insha’allah’—as agreed in our church, and brought me a beautiful Pakistani punjabi suit. It’s the right size, the right color.  I couldn’t have picked it out better myself. I don’t know how to thank her—the dress itself is proof of how important I’ve become to her, and how quickly one can find friends—if we look for them!

*Islamic holiday, Eid-al-Fitr is a day of celebration ending the month of fasting (Ramadan)