High school is a time filled with memories, friendships, and experiences that shape us in ways we don’t always realize at the time. Among the many people I met during those years, one classmate has remained in my thoughts through the years—Sharon. She wasn’t just a classmate; she was a friend, a kind soul whose generosity and warmth left an unforgettable mark on my high school days.
We met when we were both first-year students, and for the next four years, we shared the same classroom, learning and growing together. One of the things that stood out about her was her beautiful penmanship. She had such neat and elegant handwriting that whenever something needed to be written on the board, the teacher would always call on her. She never hesitated. With a piece of chalk in her hand, she would carefully copy the words from the book onto the board so that the rest of us could copy them into our notebooks. It was a small thing, but it showed her patience and willingness to help.
Beyond the classroom, her kindness shone even more brightly. I’ll never forget how she would invite us—me and other classmates—to have lunch at her house. She didn’t do it just once or twice; it was something she genuinely enjoyed. It wasn’t just about sharing a meal; it was about making us feel welcome, treating us like family.
Her family, too, was incredibly kind and accommodating. Her father was a fisherman, and I still remember those times when he’d have a good catch, bringing home plenty of fish. Instead of keeping it all for their household, she would generously share with us. We’d sit together, enjoying the delicious meal, sometimes finishing an entire pot of fish (inun-unan). We would eat so heartily that sometimes, there wouldn’t be much left for their dinner, yet they never made us feel like we were taking too much. They were just that kind of people—giving, welcoming, and always ready to share what they had.
Looking back, those moments were more than just simple lunches. They were memories of laughter, stories, and the feeling of belonging. There was no pressure, no pretensions—just good food, good company, and the warmth of true friendship.
As life went on, we eventually finished high school and went our separate ways. The years passed, and even though I often thought about my classmates, I didn’t always have the chance to reconnect. Every time I flew back to the Philippines, I would hope to meet her again, but somehow, it never happened. Life had its way of keeping us busy, pulling us in different directions.
That is, until one special occasion—the wedding of my youngest sister. It was at my sister’s mother-in-law’s place that I finally saw her again after all those years. It was an unexpected but happy reunion, a chance encounter that I had wished for so many times before. Yet, despite my happiness, I wasn’t able to fully enjoy the moment as I would have wanted.
At that time, I was pregnant and going through one of the most challenging phases—morning sickness. I was feeling weak, nauseous, and exhausted. The warm weather didn’t help either; it made everything feel heavier, making it difficult for me to stay as engaged as I wanted. I wished I could have had a proper conversation with her, to catch up on everything that had happened in our lives, but my body simply wouldn’t cooperate.
Even though I wasn’t able to talk to her much, just seeing her again was already a blessing. It reminded me of those carefree high school days, of the kindness she had always shown, of the laughter we shared over simple home-cooked meals. It made me realize that no matter how much time passes, there are people in our lives whose presence will always bring back fond memories, whose kindness will never be forgotten.
I still hold on to the hope that one day, when I return to the Philippines again, I will have the chance to see her properly—to sit down, chat, and reminisce about the old days. Perhaps, we’ll be able to gather with other classmates, reliving those moments when life was simpler, when friendships were built on shared meals, shared stories, and the innocence of youth.
There’s something special about childhood and high school friendships. They may fade into the background as life moves forward, but they never truly disappear. They remain in our hearts, waiting for the right moment to be rekindled. Sharon is one of those friends whose kindness has stayed with me, whose generosity and warmth continue to remind me of the beauty of true friendship.
Until the day we meet again, I’ll continue to cherish the memories, grateful for the times we shared, and hopeful for the moments still to come.
