got a 4 by 6 card from Vanessa,
who probably figures I'm dead. . .
it arrived as a neon green envelope,
was stamped "URGENT" in bold striking red--

i started to tear at it hurriedly
then decided i had not time,
just too much in my schedule
to read it, so i reason'd

"no problem, Vanessa's just fine."

that green envelope lay in my office
all week with the best of intentions
in hand, but petty excuses
kept stealing my time based on
other engagements i'd planned.

so i stuck it inside my portfolio
and wrist-flipped it into my car,
had i only stopped once just to read it,
then i'd know that my friend from afar

had so worried that foul play befell me
since nobody bothered to call,
and each time she took time to reach out

to say "HI"  yet life had me too busy to call.

three days later while filtering spam, i spied something

familiar to me,

t'was a year-old note from Vanessa,

stuck under a mousepad, this photo of her and me--so i pick'd up the phone with the number that i saw on her last known business card. . .and the number had been disconnected,

to lose touch with Vanessa was hard.

three months later at one late night meeting, the concierge slipped me a note, it said something about a lost letter he found with my name on a green envelope.

well, after the meeting was over,
i rushed to the concierge's desk,
he didn't assume i'd have tears in my eyes,

knowing not of my sense of unrest--

i anxiously signed for the orphan'd note
from my friend that i wrongly ignored
and i noticed the place where the edge had been ripped,

. . . the 90-day postmark it bore.  

sitting alone in the lobby,
the letter and i were alone,
the word "URGENT" still stamped in its corner,

as i wondered "God, what I have done?"

as i grasped on the envelope's corner,
i opened it slowly to see
a die-cut card with a cartoon face,
symbolic of "Maxine", a favorite character of

Vanessa and me.

inside was a note about birthdays,
she apologized for sending it late,
attesting to her own 50th birthday,
Vanessa had written that her day was great.

people sang, gave balloons, sent her flowers, took the time just to show that they care, and she wanted to know if  i still had the photo. . .she never heard back when she wrote me last year.

that is when i asked God to forgive me,
for ignoring my purpose each day,
and that was to care for the friendships in life

He had blessed me with day after day.

good friends like Van don't come easy,
they are always a part of your soul,
never take all they give you for granted,

. . .and consider their closeness your most precious goal.

© 2004 by cynth'ya lewis reed
All rights reserved.
Women for Women International