Friendship Stories #11, A Momentous Friendship

I describe my friendship with Sarah as momentous because it consists entirely of isolated moments in time, the briefest encounters, just a few sentences exchanged. I don't recall meeting Sarah, I just remember that she was there. She was there in the room with me at high school camp when she sang, "Jesus Loves Me" in her sleep. The next few fuzzy memories I have with Sarah took place in my car. We were in college, and we went out for bagels between classes. When we got back in the school parking lot, she thought I was about to hit a car, and that made her nervous . . . mostly because she thought I was about to hit an expensive car. The next time I saw Sarah, I was married, and she was waiting tables at a big, chain restaurant in a different county. Mr. M and I were on a road trip, and not expecting to see anyone familiar. We ordered our food, and then I heard the laugh: the unmistakable and completely unique laugh of Sarah's. I recognized it right away, and left the table in the middle of my mashed potatoes to go and find Sarah. I did, and we exchanged a handful of sentences. Several years went by, and one day after church as I sat on a bench, a friendly and familiar voice called my name. You guessed it, it was Sarah. She had gotten married and moved away. Just a few days ago, I ran into Sarah again at my church. We were both there for the memorial service of a dear friend of ours. In this most recent moment with Sarah, I learned that her family has outgrown their house, and she has moved again. I can't wait to run into her again. I wonder when it will be?