courtesy Google Search
Just recently we had moved to Oakland and our family was living in a rent house on 69th Avenue, and I was attending the first half of kindergarten.
Winter was coming on and mother had bought me a beautiful forest green sweater to wear back and forth to school.
Our class room had a wall with wooden pegs for us to hang our coats, jackets and sweaters on, so I dutifully placed my sweater there each day.
One day as I was ready to leave school and start out for home, I reached for my green sweater.
Wait, this was not my sweater. It only looked like mine but this one was a short sleeved sweater vest.
My tears were noticed by my teacher and she assured me that this was a mistake and someone would realize their error and return my sweater probably tomorrow.
Running home, I told my mother what had occurred, and she told me not to worry and we would pray that my sweater would find its way back to me.
The next day, sure enough, Bruce was holding my sweater and he looked so embarrassed as he told our teacher of his error.
Bruce was a nice boy and he had not intended to steal my sweater, it was all a slip-up from him not paying good attention.
Forgiving Bruce was easy, and since he lived just down the street from me, we began to walk home together.
Isn’t it amazing how you can find a best friend from a blunder?
A good friend is hard to find, and there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.