Tuesday, July 8, 2014

#perpetualfriendcrush

This is Wesley.


I remember the first time
I ever saw him
because he was wearing a yellow sweater
and it was a good moment
in my life.

Once he told us
about the small private school he went to
from kindergarten to twelfth grade.
When he started describing
the plaid ties,
I wanted to kiss his face.

Don't ask me why; I don't know.
But it happened.

But the reason I'm writing this
is not to reveal
that I've thought about
kissing him before.

So, ahem.

The reason is that
being friends with Wes
includes all the same emotions
as riding on a carousel.

A little part of you
becomes more alive
every time he talks to you.
.
.
.
I feel like I can imagine
how much care and love
our Heavenly Parents took
to create him.

It pleased Them
to make him so kind
and to give him the capacity
to think beautiful thoughts
and write beautiful words.
.
.
.
I'm convinced
that if you cracked open his soul,
there would be a butterfly there
or some other small, pleasant object,
like a little porcelain statue
of a cat
or a small array of dried wildflowers
preserved between the pages
of your favorite book.

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