I Have Friends

Allow me to show you a picture of one of my dearest friends. Whether in rain or shine, he will smile at me with the merest click of the keyboard  🙂 . He is a small round yellow  head of few words. To be honest I’ve never heard as much as a squeak from him but someone clever has already told us “silence is golden”  and that might be the secret behind his radiant complexion and pitiless optimism.

The grounds for his unfailing good cheer are not specified, nor is his planet of origin, but no news of any kind seems to dampen his good humour. He has some friends himself, who I have found on the Skype platform. He seems to be friendly, positive and lacking in self-importance: all key qualities in my opinion.

It may be naïve to say but generally, talking of self- importance, I have found that those with the most cause to boast, do so least, and those with the most to be proud of are often  unaware of it. Whatever your background or attitude to life, these little chaps, with their innocent take on everything, radiate a level of calmness and serenity which few of us can aspire to. No one is suggesting, sadly, that life’s whimsical progression may not push anyone one life towards a landscape unvisited by hope  but, in general I realised some time ago, that, to a degree, optimism and good cheer are  muscles rather than a direct response to your circumstances. The emotionally tough look for grounds for hope in the bleakest landscape while their less fit cousins slide off to a bar somewhere near Pessimism Alley.  Regardless of your temperament, life, in some ways, seems to be divided between those who regard it as a voyage charted towards self discovery and acceptance,  and those who see it as a battle for social standing and the latest in Wi-Fi equipment. Whatever your view, my non-judgemental friend will beam at you with uncommon warmth.

My Wi- Fi equipment is quite modern and runs off electricity so no problems on that score he said glowing quietly with the mixture of self satisfaction and false modesty which are ‘a la mode’ at my model railway club, but that stain on my shirt, the testament to a recent battle of unlimited ferocity with a rhubarb crumble remains a blemish on my character and  image. Still, whenever my morale falters, or my self image is dented my little friend and a few other wise and reflective chums keep me in good spirits.