The butterfly flits and dodges above my head. After I watch its indecisive movements, the monarch butterfly finally flies off to a patch of wild flowers growing along the path. I can’t help but smile at the sporadic movements of the small creature as it finally perches on a leaf. I walk on, beneath the cover of the green branches overhead. I round a long curve on the park walkway.

Sasha called earlier and suggested heading out for a walk. We agreed to meet at the central fountain area, the distance to get there about equal for both of us.

It’s one of the first nice days of spring and I’m thankful to get out and enjoy the weather. The sun beams down from a clear sky and the warmth of the rays feel wonderful on my skin. There are many other people outdoors for the same reason. The pathways are busy and the playground I’d passed earlier was buzzing with activity.

Sasha is a new friend; we met at the daycare while dropping off our children. At the beginning, when we first met, our words were few and customary, consistent with those who barely knew each other. As the months passed, we started standing in the parking lot and talking after pickup, while our kids were strapped into their car seats. As we got to know each other, our connection began to grow.

Thinking about how it all started makes me smile as I walk the last leg to the fountain. After all the moving my husband and I have done, from one city to another, and feeling so alone for so long, this unexpected friendship warms me down to my toes. I’d prayed for this often, a true friend I could share my heart and dreams with. It wasn’t clear yet if I could trust Sasha explicitly with the deep parts of my soul but our kinship so far was more substantial that what I’d ever experienced before. Perhaps this is a friendship that will last.

I’ve told my husband that I’m done with moving, I need some stability. It’s not that I’m complaining. My husband is wonderful and we have an adorable two year old daughter. He agrees with becoming more settled. Although our marriage is healthy and our love immovable, I’ve longed for a girlfriend, another woman who would understand the trials of motherhood, a type of sister I’ve never had.

My only concern, as the fountain comes into view, is that Sasha will tire of me, dump me or I’ll bore her into leaving. I don’t see myself as an intriguing person. My quiet, reserved character isn’t ideal for making friends easily, but when I do make friends, I’m there to the bitter end. I’m valiantly faithful and hoping that will be enough to ensure a long lasting friendship.

I see her before she spots me. Sasha stands at the fountain, waiting. Her bright pink jogging pants and bright, blue top make her stand out among the crowd. It is Sasha’s style, gregarious and bold. Her consistently optimistic outlook is what drew me to her in the first place. The smile that lights Sasha’s face as she notices me warms my heart and I hurry to the fountain.

“Hi Leora!” Sasha says.

“You beat me here.”

“I don’t think I had as far to go as you did.”

I say, “I don’t know about that. A butterfly distracted me for a bit.”

“No way? You saw a butterfly?” Sasha asks.

“Yeah.”

“I did too! What color was yours?”

“It was a monarch butterly.”

“Me too!” says Sasha excitedly. “It was hovering over my head for the longest time and then it finally flew off. It made me stop and watch for a bit.”

“Are you serious?” I ask. “My butterfly did the same thing.”

Sasha’s eyes grow big and round. “I wonder if it means anything?”

I shrug. I’d never really paid much attention to such things, just chocked it up to being coincidence. Sasha saw things, noticed details and drew attention to minute happenings. Seeing the world that way wasn’t my style but I did find Sasha’s observances fascinating. It was eye opening. She was a deeply spiritual woman who loved to talk about her relationship with God. I liked that about her.

“I read something about butterflies a while ago but it came back to me just now,” Sasha says as we begin our walk around the small lake in the center of the park.

“And what was that?”

“It was something about the butterfly effect.”

I shake my head. “I’m not familiar with it.”

Sasha looks thoughtful and then says, “The idea is that if you do something that might seem insignificant at the moment, small in your eyes, the potential repercussions could be life altering and cause big, rippling effects.”

“Okay,” I say, still not sure of what she is getting at.

“I’m trying to remember what it was that I heard or read. The butterfly effect is something about the movement a butterfly makes as it beats its wings, stirring up the air and its potential of influencing the weather in a different area, even possibly causing a hurricane. It’s a loose interpretation but that the gist of it in a nutshell.”

“It sounds a bit far-fetched.”

“It does and yet it still holds some merit.”

We both grow distracted by the squawking of ducks on the lake up ahead. Some children are throwing bread crumbs out to them and the race is on as to which duck will get them first.

“See, just like that,” Sasha declares.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Those ducks have been programmed to come close when people are near. That’s not their natural response. Over time, people bringing them food again and again, they’ve been reconditioned to lose their fear of humans.”

“I guess so,” I say, still not seeing the relation between butterflies and the ducks.

“It’s just like us,” Sasha says as we pass the noisy ducks and keep walking.

I look at her and wait for her to explain.

“The two of us meeting like we did, striking up conversation with each other started a chain of events that will impact the future.”

I giggle before saying, “You make it sound serendipitous.”

“It is! It absolutely is!”

I turn my eyes back to the path and consider that idea.

Sasha’s eyes sparkle. “If we never would have met, never made the effort to chat, we’d both still be without a good friend. The small efforts we made at first were followed by longer, more meaningful conversations and that led to us wanting to spend more and more time together.”

“I am glad I met you,” I admit.

“Exactly!” Sasha nods. “The small things we did at first, to get to know each other, blossomed till we now call each other friend.”

“So small things matter.”

“Yes, just like a butterfly flapping its wings.”

I venture to add, “So us taking a chance on each other has taken us to the place of friendship.”

“Um-hm,” Sasha says. “I was praying for a friend and so were you. God knew that we both have toddlers, orchestrated that we’d take them to the same daycare but the rest was up to us. Everything we do every day matters, the things we say, the way we treat others and the prayers we pray. All the small things add up to become something amazing. Just like our friendship.”

Her words impact me deeply. I suddenly realize that she values me as much as I value her.

Sasha says, “I’ve never had a really good friend, not since grade school. Since getting to know you, I’ve been amazed at the bond we’ve developed. It’s like we’ve known each other forever. We connect on so many levels.”

“That is true. With all the moving we’ve done, I always struggled to make friends. I always wanted that but it never seemed to materialize. I often wondered if it was me, if I was just difficult to like.”

Sasha’s giggle is contagious and makes me laugh. “I used to worry too. I thought maybe I was too talkative, too flamboyant and my jokes too corny for people to catch on to.”

“I like your flashy style and corny jokes,” I say, turning to her.

She laughs loudly and shakes her head. “That’s a first.”

When her laughter dies down, I ask. “What about us both seeing butterflies today, what do you make of that?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say. We both took a chance on each other. The butterfly we both saw is the confirmation. Just look what’s happened with us venturing at a friendship with each other. We’re here, walking and talking! I’m thoroughly enjoying this!”

“And it started with a small thing, saying hi at the daycare.”

“Exactly!” Sasha declares. “And a prayer, of course.”

“Of course,”

“And who knows where our friendship will go. Just possibly we’ll be old grannies and still be the best of friends. We’ll hobble around with our canes and meet up at the coffee shop for donuts and double-doubles.”

“That would be a sight,” I say, not able to keep the smile off my face. This is what it is like being with Sasha. She always manages to bring out the best in me. Her view of the world is always bright, full of hope and it inspires me. I love the futuristic verbal picture she painted of us as old ladies, still the best of friends.

I begin to realize in this moment that Sasha could be a true friend. She’s already said so many things on our short walk that has brought me hope. Being with her is like a breath of fresh air and it makes me feel more alive somehow. God has answered my prayer, a small thing causing a ripple effect, which has produced the friend who now walks by my side.