My 10-year-old Donna said, “Mom, I made a new friend at school today. Can she come over tomorrow?” Donna was a shy girl and I wanted her to make some friends to bring her out of her shell.
“Sure, honey, that sounds great.” I said, thinking back to my own best friend, Lillian. We lived across the street from each other in Washington Heights, New York. We met at the age of 10, too. Like my daughter, I was shy, but Lillian drew me out. She was one of the friendliest people in school, with shiny black hair and a mile-wide smile.
In senior high school, Lillian went on a trip to Florida. This was the first time we had to be away from each other for a few days. “I'll be back soon.” she told me. But three days later, Lillian's sister told me that she had fallen into a river and hadn't come out any more. Soon, my family moved to New Jersey. Whenever I thought of her, tears came into my eyes.
The next day Donna brought her new friend home. “Hi, Mrs. Loggia.” the little girl said. Her hair was so shiny and black and she shot me a big smile. “My name is Laura.”
My daughter's new friend was so much like Lillian. I was still puzzled (迷惑) when Laura's mom came to pick her up later that afternoon. I opened the door to let her in. “Judy!” she cried. “It's me, Lillian's sister, from Washington Heights.” Yes, my daughter's friend looked familiar. She was Lillian's niece.
