The Day That Changed Me, The Day That Still Makes Me Cry

As a child, I wasn’t cool. I didn’t have a lot of close friends. And I felt every joy and every pain deeply.

When Michael started coming to my church, we were both in the 8th grade. Shortly after their first visit, his parents enrolled him and his siblings in the Christian school that I had attended since 1st grade, the one that my church started in hopes of protecting the kids from secularism.

As I got to know Michael, I became thoroughly convinced that he was an answer to my prayer, the prayer that I prayed almost daily... "Lord, please send me a best friend."

Within a few short weeks of him enrolling into our church's school, Michael and I became inseparable. We sat next to each other in classes. We shared class notes with each other.  We laughed and told each other stories and sat next to one another at the lunch table.

Prior to Michael coming into my life, I'd had a good number of acquaintances, people who didn't hate me, who were kind, those who showed up at my birthday parties and hung out with me during recesses.

But Michael was the first person who I considered to be my best friend. He was the first person I called "my best friend."

And that felt really good. I remember thanking God for bringing Michael to Chestertown Christian Academy. Because I thought that Michael was awesome. And I believed he thought the same about me.

But then, one day something happened in the lunchroom that changed everything...