Memories of Mandi: Day 2

     This is one of my most precious memories: Mandi's thirteenth birthday. I remember thinking that I hadn't a penny nor an idea of what sort of gift to give her... and so I employed the use of the talents I'd been given: I drew her a picture of a horse. She awwh'd, thanked me, and set it aside, and to be honest I felt like a bit of a lousy friend. Every other girl there had bought her some cute something, and all I'd done was draw her a lousy picture, which she set aside without a second thought.
     It was months, at least, before I next saw her bedroom; I expected it to be covered in horses, and so I wasn't at all surprised when horse model upon horse model unfolded to my view. We bantered back and forth, (both of us being horse lovers,) about who had the most models, who the most pictures, who the most calendars, and ended with the question: which of us had the most horse paraphernalia in general? I went home laughing, ready to count my horses and prove myself the winner, (though Mandi did, in fact, win by a landslide,) but the most memorable thing I came away with that day was a warmth that bubbled up, clear  from my toes to the tips of my hair; for there, on the wall, of all the posters she owned that she could have been displaying, was the very drawing I'd given her, out of a wish to give a gift that mattered, all those months ago.
     I'm certain she never knew the value of that experience... how important and touching that was to me. I'd been poor all my life, with never a penny to spend on birthday gifts, and the day I drew that picture, I was desperate to prove myself a worthy friend; an equal to all the rest. Not only did Mandi's proud display of my artwork give me a feeling of accomplishment and hope for my popularity status, it sent a message even more substantial: that my best was good enough.
     I thank Mandi every day for that.
     I love you, Mandi!