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I’m uncertain why I’m writing this now. My friend’s death happened a few year’s ago. A Friend… I had a friend a long time ago we met when I was five. We rarely saw each other except in the controlled environment known as Sunday School. I did not know much about this individual except his name but over the years he came to be the person who cared. When young muscles failed to keep up with growing bones and I developed a limp, he never noticed. When other’s treated me differently after I started using a wheelchair, it didn’t bother him. I couldn’t go to public school, but he gave me a glimpse of what it was like to be a band member. I was rarely invited anywhere but he asked me to his house and introduced me to tortillas covered in cheese. He acted as though I could do anything and struck the first spark of independence. During years troubled by depression, abuse, and loneliness, he presented an alternative. When my family moved to Texas from Arizona we wrote to each other for a time. But the need to adapt to public school, time, and a habit of focusing on the here and now caused us to loose contact. Recently, my parents made a visit to Arizona to see family and friends. When they returned, my mom told me that Pat had died of cancer. The world is less bright, and Heaven a lot brighter. Marvin Giles