We have a wonderful friend who calls herself Gypsy. I’ve never asked her about it, but as I’ve come to know her, I suspect it suits her. She has an exotic past with a career as a singer in New York, a ride on an elephant in a California parade, a marriage to a colorful television personality whose zany creativity challenged her, and many years as the resident diva in our small church and in the community. An award-winning archivist for the church, she has vision and a spirit that brightens the lives of her friends. Her enthusiasm for all things creative, and for tennis, has brought her into our daily ventures.

Our Gypsy is a loyal friend whose counsel is discreet and wise. She has “been to the mountaintop” in so many ways, and at ground level she is very secure. Watching her has taught me to treasure the small moments that might otherwise slip by me. If an opportunity doesn’t suit her, she can say no. I haven’t learned to do that gracefully. She has found her voice in a writers’ group, and willingly stretches her creative self in ways that surprise her more than they surprise the rest of us.

I appreciate the time we spend together, seeing things through her eyes. My life is so much richer with her in it.