From the Improvement Era, June 1945 –

Conversations at Twilight – Friendship

By Alice LeCornu

Mona Leah dropped her beret and purse on a chair and then curled up on the braided rug in front of it. “Aunt Martha,” she asked mournfully, “what’s the matter with me?”

“Nothing too fundamental,” replied Aunt Martha with a quick smile, “except a smudge of lipstick on your chin and a slightly disheveled coiffure, to put it elegantly and mildly.”

Mona Leah’s smile was dutiful but unresponsive. “I’m serious. People don’t like me.”

“Fiddlesticks!” Aunt Martha was emphatic. “That’s nothing.”

“What?”

“The important thing is, do you like people?”

“Oh, I see,” said Mona Leah. “You mean that old saying about ‘to have a friend you must be one.’”

“Yes, and being a friend involves doing something about it. If we want to succeed at anything else we work for it. If we want to win a prize we try hard, but too many of us sit back and expect friendship to come to us uninvited.”

“I guess that’s true. But it shouldn’t be one-sided,” persisted Mona Leah. “I try to be nice to people, but I can’t see that anybody puts herself out for me. You say, do something about friends, but they should meet you half way, shouldn’t they?”

“Who can say where that point is? We usually insist on drawing our own half-way mark and expect our friends to meet it. Our line may not seem so clear from the other side.”

Mona Leah frowned in concentration on this idea.

“Besides,” continued Aunt Martha, “to be a real friend perhaps we should be willing to go all the way. We think too much of getting, in friendship, and not enough of giving.”

“Well, but you don’t want people to think you’re running after them.”

“Why not? There’s no harm in letting folks know you value their friendship. Now, mind you, I don’t mean cultivating someone for the good he can do you, that’s selfishness and not friendliness, but if you are offering sincere friendship, it’s a compliment to make the advances.”

“What if you get turned down?”

“Unpleasant, I’ll admit, but it happens so seldom it’s worth the effort, I think. This, however, seems to be a purely academic discussion. I suppose something specific happened to start it?”

“Well, I owe Emily a letter, but I can’t remember her new address. Now I suppose she’ll let us lose contact with each other because she’s too stubborn to write out of turn.”

“Why expect the worst of your friends? Give Emily the benefit of the doubt. You can have a letter forwarded from the old address.”

“Never thought of that,” admitted Mona Leah grudgingly; “it’s worth trying.”

“Another item?” prodded Aunt Martha.

“There’s a new girl in our Mutual class, looks keen. I hoped she’d sort of pick me out, but she seems awfully standoffish — no, don’t say it — I see now it’s up to me to make the first move.”

“Fine,” applauded Aunt Martha, “but all this doesn’t seem to prove that you’re losing popularity.”

“Well, this morning was a sort of last straw. I had to walk home from Sun- day School alone, and it got me down.”

“How did that happen?”

“I stopped to speak to Mrs. James, and the others went on. It wouldn’t have hurt some of the kids to wait for me.”

“Did you ask any of them to?”

“No, but they could see I was detained. I’ve waited for Barbara and Midge often enough! I won’t again!”

“Of course not,” agreed Aunt Martha. “They aren’t worth keeping as friends, anyway.”

Mona Leah looked up quickly. “Well, yes, they are,” she admitted honestly. “They’re really grand girls.” She jumped up and gestured grandly. “You’re right, as usual. I love everybody. I’m going out and cultivate friends all over the place, make two bloom where but one grew before!”

“If you’re going to Mutual,” laughed Aunt Martha, glancing at the clock, “you haven’t much time. Don’t forget that smudge.”

“I’m practically on the way,” Mona Leah assured her. She took a comb and compact from her purse and crossed to the mirror. “I’ll telephone that new girl and see if she’d like to have me call for her,” she planned as she deftly freshened herself and arranged her beret, “and we can pick up Midge, too. Thanks for the pointers. ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed,’ ” she quoted as she paused at the door to smile at Aunt Martha. “Good-bye, Aunt Indeedy!”