On Making Friends

We wandered around an island in Budapest yesterday and eventually reached the playground. The kid was off and running as usual and I watched him from a distance as he quickly made a friend.

I don't know the words that were exchanged or what language they were in. A few days earlier in a similar situation, he was smitten with a girl who spoke Hungarian, English, and French, just as she was smitten with the perfect person to practice on. But I watched him from afar with this boy, enough to keep tabs. They ran from one spot to another, taking turns making suggestions, one following the other, enjoying one another's company. They were at ease. It seemed like they were such a good match that it looked as if they had been friends for years.

He is a social animal in ways I cannot understand. As an often terribly inhibited introvert, his unabashed ability to make friends puzzles me and exhausts me. It's almost as if he's teaching me something, a skill I do not know.

It was a moment that lasted no more than fifteen minutes, but I watched as long as I could with great pleasure and fascination. He made a friend in Budapest. What a privilege. I hoped he would remember it forever.

His name means companion. I think it suits.