To a Friend

By Donna Glanzman
JANUARY 26, 2002

I had to come. You have been my friend for twenty years, and you have been wounded. Why it took me four months to show you I cared, I cannot explain. I had watched as you were struck and struck again. I cried for you and prayed for your recovery. I watched in awe as you rose up defiantly from such unimaginable pain. I wanted to come, but I didn’t know how I could help.

You greeted me like everything was just the same as before. You were still beautiful and vibrant and exciting. You were confident, but quieter. You seemed genuinely pleased that I had returned, and you didn’t seem to care that I was late in coming. You were just grateful that I cared.

You are the same...and yet, you are not. Your shaken spirit has emerged stronger and wiser. Your scar is now a symbol of your resilience and your deepening faith. You are still my dear, special friend.

I walked your paths, heard your music and witnessed the vibrancy of your being. I photographed your face in all its emotions and angles. I saw your angels as they hovered all around to protect you. I wiped away tears as I felt your pain and your loss. I smiled as I listened to your children’s laughter and smelled the fragrance of your fabulous meals. I applauded your theater and your art, your fashion and your glitter.

And, as I flew away, wanting to stay with you so much longer, the light of your resolve was visible for all the world to see. That special light is your gift to an anxious world, and it shines high into the heavens marking the place where your heart was broken.

New York City, you will always be my friend and a friend to millions. But, now you are so much more. You are the epitome of faith and peace and love...the kind of friend that each of us prays will be in our lives forever!

God bless you, my friend!