Kids & Parenting

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MY BEST FRIEND

“Mom, where are you? Moooooooooom!"

The back door slammed as my seven year old son Darrell came running into the house looking for me. What does he want now, I mused? The way he was yelling, I was certain something horrific had happened. I left my ironing in search of this little boy.

“There you are. Mom, can Martin come over after school tomorrow? You remember Martin, right? He’s my best friend from school. We want to walk through our woods and find leaves for our science project at school.”

I really didn’t remember Martin. I didn’t remember being introduced to him, but Darrell certainly talked about him, a lot. I felt as though I already knew him. Every afternoon, when Darrell jumped off the school bus and came home, I was introduced to the latest adventures he and Martin experienced in school that day.

I mentally thought of all I needed to accomplish tomorrow. Did a little play-mate fit into my agenda?

“Well, Mom? Can he come?”

“Yes, I’d like to meet Martin. Ask him to stay for dinner.” With these words, Darrell ran off to phone Martin and share the good news with him. I smiled to myself as I listened to their excited exchange. There was no doubt about it. Darrell and Martin were, indeed, best-of-friends.

Darrell was up and ready for school in record time. I could feel his excitement. Mom was letting his best friend come over to play, and stay for dinner. At that moment I was certain I had just won the trophy entitled, ‘Worlds Best Mom.’

“I’ll be at school by three o’clock to pick you and Martin up,” I said to Darrell as he rushed out the front door to catch the school bus.

“Okay mom. We’ll be waiting.”

As I busied myself around the house, and checked my things-to-do list, I wondered if two little boys were able to concentrate on what they were being taught in class. If I had to make a guess, I would say their teacher lost them somewhere between math and science; as their minds wandered to the woods and their search for autumn leaves.

When three o’clock arrived I was dutifully sitting outside Midwestern Academy waiting for two best friends to come walking through the school doors. I didn’t have to wait long. Here came Darrell, arm-and-arm with his best friend.

This was Martin? This little boy was my sons best friend?

As the back car door opened, and two laughing boys climbed in, I hoped neither of them noticed the look of surprise on my face.

“Hi Mom,” a very pleased little boy said. “This is my friend, Martin.”

“Ahhh, hi Martin” I mumbled.

So, this was Martin.

Deep in thought, I half listened to the lively chatter coming from the back-seat.

Once home, and after a snack of milk and cookies, the two took off running for the woods. They returned an hour later with a collection of autumn leaves in their hands.

Maple. Elm. Oak.

Red, orange, and yellow.

A beautiful collection of leaves.

“We’re gonna go put these in a scrapbook,” Darrell announced. I could hear laughter coming from the direction of his bedroom.

Forty-five minutes later the two boys came into the kitchen to show me their work. A beautiful scrapbook of autumn leaves was opened for me to peruse.

“You boys did an excellent job with this. I’m sure your teacher will be pleased.”

“Go wash up for dinner. Your dad will be home in a few minutes.”
The menu was suggested by two little boys. They chose macaroni and cheese, along with hot dogs. Around a lively conversation, mostly by two little boys, dinner was enjoyed by all. I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, then called for the boys to get in the car so I could take Martin home.

After taking Martin home, and with carefully chosen words, I said to Darrell, “Martin is your best friend, right? “

“You bet mom. Isn’t he just the coolest?”

"Yes, Son, he is a very nice boy. I really like him. But, Darrell, why didn’t you tell me he was a brown-skinned African American?”

“Huh? What do you mean mom? He’s not brown skinned.”

“Really? You don’t think he looks like you, do you? Look at yourself. You are a light-skinned Caucasian.”

“Mom, I have no idea what you are talking about. Martin is Martin. We like each other. He’s just like me. He loves Jesus, likes the same things I do, and he’s my best friend. “

I thought about what my bright, intelligent, insightful son just said. When he looked at Martin, alongside himself, he did not see light skin verses brown skin. He saw two friends who loved Jesus. He saw two friends who had fun together. He saw Martin through eyes that were color-blind.

I thought about their collection of autumn leaves all different, yet when put together in a scrapbook they were amazingly similar.

My seven-year old son taught me a valuable lesson that day. I too need to see my world through color-blind eyes. God made all people, light or brown, in His image. In Jesus, we are not different. We are like those autumn leaves. Colorful! Beautiful!

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. - Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)

This is a work of non-fiction.

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