Ice Cream Cone by James Avery

During the week before teachers were supposed to report for duty at the high school I'd just transferred to, the administration held a welcome meeting with the principal. Because I wasn't a new teacher and I'd just transferred within the district, somehow I didn't get the message until 10 minutes before said meeting while I was painting the podium in my new room, wearing my icky painting clothes.

Yes, I went. And it was awesome! Not because the meeting was good. I can't remember a single thing the principal said. No. What was awesome is that just as the meeting started, my best friend from high school walked in the door with her teacher mentor. She had just been hired to teach at the same school! I yelled, "Maretta!?!" When she realized who had just yelled out her name she cried, "Sarah!!" We hugged and giggled and talked through the whole meeting. It was wonderful.

After college, Maretta and I had lost touch for about three years. I heard about what was going on with her through her family a few times, but other than that, we had no contact. I always remembered her birthday, and I thought of her often. But to end up teaching at the same school was the coolest, neither of us thought coincidence, ever.

That first year was difficult for both of us. I contracted mono and had to sleep during my lunch breaks in order to make it through the day, and Maretta was going through the hell that is the first year of teaching. So we started a little tradition. Whenever we had a really really bad day, we'd get ice cream at Baskin Robbins on the way home and just relax and talk. It was special time just for us. I honestly think it played a big role in keeping both of us sane. For my birthday (I think it was the 30th), Maretta gave me this charm to commemorate our tradition and the rekindling of a very important friendship.

The ice cream days are over now. Our Baskin Robbins is closed. Maretta was blessed to be able to stay home when she had her first baby, and now that she has two, our crazy schedules make it difficult for us to see each other as often as we'd like. But every time I see that charm, it reminds me of her and how much I love her.