The Tapestry of Human Understanding

Tuesday I was supposed to have a friend over for tea, but I canceled it. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was wrong, but I felt like holing up somewhere and remaining in perfect oblivion to what was around me.

Three things prevented me from doing that. For one, I had two rambunctious kids home from school that wanted to tell me all about their day, have a snack, play outside, watch a dvd, color, argue over who had the stuffed snake first - you get the picture. The second was my little baby who, after a brief respite, seemed to be uncomfortable again and who, nestled in my arms, wanted to bang his head again and again into my cheek. This seemed to me a good excuse to also cancel the scrapbooking evening out I had planned on attending - baby sick, needs mom. The third thing was the voicemail on my answering machine from a friend I had quarreled with last week, and which I knew I had to deal with.

So when Darling Husband came home, I handed him the baby and went to go speak to my friend. It was a slightly distracted phone call on both ends as she was bathing her boys and I was listening to kids chasing each other around our tiny house and Peanut screaming in the background. But eventually things quieted and we were able to hear each other out. The phone call ended great - not because we suddenly saw eye to eye, but because our friendship was more important than our differences. We listened, each apologized, agreed to disagree on certain matters, and basically picked up where we left off. Darling Husband had managed to calm Peanut down, and suddenly feeling as a light as a cloud, I saw no reason not to go to the scrapbooking event, where I chatted away happily and made a beautiful page for my Big Boy's third birthday.

Yesterday was a holiday and we got a last-minute visit from our good friend Mohammed and his daughter Belkiss, who were in town from London. He had not yet seen our new house and DH gave him the tour while Belkiss ran upstairs to play with Young Lady, my eldest girl. Mohammed's wife Amina and I have nothing in common. I'm 12 years older than she is and closer in age to her mother than to her. She had 4 children in the space of my 3, and we have different religions, different political views, different cultures, different life experiences - and yet she is one of my best friends. We share the same views on parenting, on friendship, on morals, on basically all the essential things.

She once asked me if I would be bothered if our children got married one day, and I said that I wouldn't really like it given the religious differences, and she stated that she felt the exact same way. Yet that didn't hamper our friendship at all, or our desire to welcome the others' kids for an afternoon, an overnight stay, or now that they live in London, for a weekend. Our respect for each other and for the decisions our children will one day make takes precedence over any fears or prejudice we might otherwise have.

With all my hosting juices back in full force, I busied myself with setting out coffee and goodies I made (not that it was necessary since Mohammed brought an almond macaroon pastry with him). And as I watched Mohammed and DH discuss animatedly all the latest developments in jobs, housing, life in London and Paris, I felt content. In order to receive people with a heart and mind fully engaged, to go out with a light heart, or even to succeed in the skill of living at its most basic, we need to do everything possible to remain at peace with those we care about. And what a shame, what a loss, what a snag in the tapestry of human understanding to only care about those who think as we do.