Finding Friendship

by Kate Warner

I recently became an intern at The Mother Church. I’m going to be here in Boston all summer, and getting here was a little hectic. Since I didn’t know when I was going to be leaving until the day before I left, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to most of my friends and even to some of my family. Now, I dearly love my friends and am very close with my family. And I felt I had finally learned how to truly express love to those I’d always been close to. To be ripped so abruptly away—well, it hurt.

So when I got to Boston I was scared and I was incredibly lonely. Here I was, more than an eight-hour drive away from everyone I knew and loved, in a city I was only vaguely familiar with, with few familiar comforts.

The first night, I cried. I wanted to go home and curl up on the couch next to my brothers and watch a movie. I wanted to take the next train back and never leave my family again.

I was desperately homesick, and needed to do something about it! So I prayed. Every night for the next few nights I went to bed with an ache in my heart, but I also kept a prayer on my lips.

Near the end of my first week of work, a coworker asked me to lunch. I hadn’t really been taking any lunch breaks that week, so I agreed. We went to a local shopping center, and as we walked to the food court, I noticed something interesting. There were a lot of people in costumes! And not just any costumes—anime costumes! This greatly excited me, as I’m an anime fan. We checked out the nearest convention center information sign, and, lo and behold, the anime convention would last all weekend!

The rest of the day passed quickly. As soon as I could, I rushed home, decked myself out in a random assortment of items from my room (aka a costume), and hurried off to the convention center. It felt like this was a wonderful opportunity to find other people who were like me.

For a while, I walked alone around the anime convention events. People, coming in groups, didn’t seem inspired to engage the random lone wanderer. I felt as though I could finally express myself again, but to whom? To what end? And then I was invited to join a LARP. A LARP is a Live Action Role Playing game—something I thought might be a little strange, even for me. But despite my inner reservations, something about it felt like a good idea, so I agreed.

At first it seemed a little hard to talk with the others; they all seemed to know what they were doing. However, after a while I found it easier to be myself and met a new friend who I shall dub Fred. Our “characters” interacted most of the game. Neither of us could solve anything about the plot, but both of us enjoyed adding odd commentary to every scene. If you’re familiar with D&D (Dungeons and Dragons,) you might label us as chaotic neutrals.

After the LARP, Fred and I grabbed something to drink at a convenience store and met his friend Jesus. Later that night I met a few more of Fred’s friends, and was invited on a trip to an all-night bakery. By this point the hour-hand was pointing to twelve. I agreed to go.

While normally I don’t recommend going anywhere with someone you don’t know well, I trusted these men—one dressed as Alucard, another dressed as Dante, and of course Jesus came with us as well. They were polite, considerate, and about as crazy as I am. I’d thought we’d take a car, but it seemed they intended to walk. How much harm could that be?

It took us two hours to walk to the bakery! By this time we’d acquired some new friends in the form of passersby who decided to tag along—one from a neighboring Harry Potter convention!

I discovered a lot about my new-found friends during that exceptionally long walk, and part of it was how intrinsically caring they all were. Over the next couple of days I spent most of my time at the convention, LARPing and hanging out with my new friends. When the convention was over, I knew I’d miss them, but I’d already learned something important. I’m not alone and friendless, no matter where I am.

When I had felt sad and lonely coming to Boston, my biggest struggle was feeling unable to express myself to others. It seemed as though I couldn’t express all of the wonderful qualities God endowed me with, and I was miserable. My situation then reminds me of the passage from Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy: “Happiness is spiritual, born of Truth and Love. It is unselfish; therefore it cannot exist alone, but requires all mankind to share it” (57).

I had been convinced that I couldn’t express happiness because I was alone. Now I know that—while I certainly may miss my friends and family this summer—it’s not with whom you express love, joy, and beauty that counts; it’s that you express those qualities at all. And all mankind is ready to share them with you.