The Old Friend - submitted by Melian

The pastor prayed as the last few notes of the closing hymn hung in the air before dismissing the congregation with an exhortation and blessing. People left their seats, leaving to pick up kids from Sunday school classes, going out to lunch, or congesting the aisles while they chatted with friends. One of the female members approached William Kelly as he slowly rose from his chair, leaning on his old wooden cane. She was accompanied by her usual bright smile which he returned with one of his own--worn perhaps, but not at all rusty.

“Hello Mr. Kelly!”

“Hello Emma.” His heart delighted at her cheerful voice, youthful beauty, and that certain glow that only comes from being recently married. In his mind’s eye he saw his own wife at that age with that same glow, standing in the same room, the sanctuary lights glowing softly on her golden head…

“Ryan and I were wondering if you would like to join us for lunch this afternoon?”

The smile on William’s face widened at the invitation but he shook his head. “Thank you Emma, but I think not today. Why don’t you and Ryan have a nice quiet afternoon to yourselves.”

“You have other plans?”

“Yes. Yes I do. I’m going to spend some time with a very old friend of mine.”

“Oh!” Emma’s smile came back in full force. “That’s great! How do you two know each other?”

“My wife introduced us, a long time ago.”

“Do you get to see each other often?”

“Oh I try to get together once a year or so.”

“How fun. I hope you have a good time.”

William nodded. “I’m sure we will. And thank you for the lunch offer.”

“Oh yes. Maybe we can do it next week.”

“Sounds fine with me.”

“Alright! We’ll plan on that then. Have a good week Mr. Kelly!”

“You too Emma.”

Emma joined her husband outside the church doors and together they headed towards the parking lot.

“He said no?”

“He’s having company over today. Maybe next week.”

Ryan nodded. “I’m glad you thought to offer,” he said, slipping an arm around his wife’s waist.

She nestled her head against his broad shoulder. “I’m glad he has a good friend to spend time with.”



William crossed through the picketed gate opening onto his yard and walked the pathway up to the front door. Though his shoulders were hunched slightly from age, his still-dark head was only a few inches from the top of the door frame.

In the kitchen he took from the refrigerator a pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade made just the way his wife used to do for hot summer afternoons. With a glass filled with the pale yellow liquid, he stepped across the hallway to the cool library and sank into his favorite easy chair. He took into hand an old paperback; tears dimmed his vision as his eyes ran over the words written just inside the tattered cover in faded ink--

To my dear husband Will, with hopes that he will enjoy it for many years to come.
Many loves, Margaret.

One withered finger lovingly traced the words before he turned past the introduction and the table of contents, his eyes taking in the familiar words that greeted him with perfect welcome. William turned the worn pages ’til he came to the first chapter. His eyes swept through it, reacquainting himself with the dear old words, the rich story. As a satisfied smile crept to his lips, Will sank back deep into his chair.

“Hello, old friend.”


"You know you’ve read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend."--Paul Sweeney