Nobody would’ve said Shelley and I were best friends when we were thirteen, and they’d have been right. But when she was killed in a car accident late that summer, she left a best-friend-sized hole in my heart.

That was the summer I learned the most about death. But it was also the summer I learned the most about friends — and it was all thanks to Shelley.

My life was rather simple in comparison with today’s video-game-infused smartphone culture. I was home-schooled and home-churched with little to do after school but sew quilts and dresses, play the piano and run in the woods. I was lonely and hungered for a friendship with someone other than my two sisters.

Making Friends

When my oldest sister began taking piano lessons from Shelley’s piano teacher, it was an opportunity for me to talk with someone my own age and begin to cultivate a friendship. It wasn’t something that came easily for me; I found it difficult to talk to people my own age. Plus, little did we know, kids around that area called us “the weird Webb girls.” I imagine our homeschooling and hand-me-downs had something to do with our unfortunate nickname.

But miraculously, Shelley didn’t seem to care. She didn’t seem to notice my hand-me-downs or disheveled hair. She didn’t seem to care that I didn’t wear makeup. It didn’t seem to bother her that I was the youngest of three girls and the least popular (and the biggest little troublemaker, to hear my cousins tell it).

Listening and Showing Kindness

I remember sitting on the piano teacher’s steps and talking with Shelley until my sister’s lesson was over and it was Shelley’s turn. At some point we began exchanging phone calls and I remember excitedly dialing her number and hoping she’d answer (those were the days before cell phones were attached to our hips). I’m sure she had more important things to do, but she’d always take the time to talk to me.

That summer was a happy one, and I learned the value of a girl’s friendship. She made me feel like I counted, that I mattered and that I was important. I remember her listening to me — boy, she was a great listener. I doubt she ever knew just how important our friendship was to me, but I will never forget how she extended kindness to me when I needed it most.

The Tragic Shock

I’ll also never forget the day my mother told me she’d been killed. It happened on our lonesome farm-to-market road when the 16-year-old driver of the car in which she was riding overcorrected after rounding a corner too fast, and the car was broadsided by a truck. My uncle happened to be the first on the accident.

I knew that there was hope because of Jesus — that the end wasn’t truly the end.

After my mother’s first sentence, which included the words, “Shelley died,” I didn’t hear much more. I felt the disbelief, the sting of realization, the horror of the reality and the grief. I vaguely remember my mother asking me if I wanted to attend the funeral, but it was as if her voice was down a deep barrel. I didn’t go.

When the truth of what happened finally hit me, I cried myself to sleep at night for two weeks.

Lifelong Lessons Learned

I learned the most about death that summer. That friends can be here one minute and gone the next. That even young people die. That the hurt and pain of losing someone isn’t relegated to more mature people who know how to handle it — and they don’t always know how to handle it, either.

The most important lesson I learned that summer was to appreciate friendship and loved ones each day, because tomorrow isn’t promised.

Even as a child, though, I knew that there was hope because of Jesus — that the end wasn’t truly the end. It is because of that hope that I can move forward, appreciate those around me now and look forward to the day when I can see loved ones who have gone on before me.

“The Beauty of What Shelley Taught Me”

The beauty of what Shelley taught me has stayed with me for more than thirty years. Listen well and love with all my heart. Be kind to those who are less fortunate. Appreciate those whom God has placed in my life for a time. And because of Jesus, I have hope that I will see them again in heaven one day.

But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells. (2 Peter 3:12-14)

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. (1 Thess. 4:13-14)