Happy Birthday, Mon Amie!

You’re like, what? 23 years old today?*

I would like to introduce you to my dear friend, Sarah Jane. She’s a peach and you’d just love her.

~ Mon amie et Moi ~

Sarah and I met as college students on our way up to French camp, where we were both working as counselors. She was a happy Catholic—so was I—and our friendship was cemented on that ride.

We have been the best of friends of ever since.

The two of us drove to daily Mass together on many a cold Minnesota morning, and we saw Pope John Paul the Great together on a sweltering day in Denver.

We were each other’s maid-of-honors (well, she was a “matron,” not a “maid”) and are godmothers to each other’s children.

We even know the names of one another’s siblings! (You raise an eyebrow at my use of an exclamation point, but this is no small feat for a memory-deficient lady like myself.)

Sarah’s husband, God love him, has spirited her all over the country—Virginia, Pennsylvania, Missouri, Texas, and Alaska—and I have spent time with her in four of the five states. She has been very good for my knowledge of geography.

She paved the way for my own home schooling and is a font of knowledge in any and every area. Indeed, she’s my “Encyclopedia Sarah.”

Most important of all, Sarah is a true friend of the heart. I have called her up laughing with joy over a positive pregnancy test, and then called her back sobbing after we lost the baby. She is the kind of friend that you can phone in the middle of the night with horrible news, or in the middle of the day because you’re bored.

She really knows me, warts and all, and I am blessed in that she loves me despite this knowledge.

Well, I love you right back, Sarah dear! Have a frabjous day in my absence, and greet all those friendly moose for me.

*Ed. Note: Sarah is several years my junior, and for this reason I tease her incessantly.