Spring: what everyone looks forward to in the harsh winter season. Spring meant playing outside, and having no bitterly cold snow on the ground. But best of all, spring was seeing him.

It was the year of 1998, a year I have always remembered. I was but five years old, and my time was spent with Kris, my neighbor and best friend.

Kris lived in the big brown house at the end of the street, and even though he was two years older than me, he was always there.

During this particular end of winter, I learned the awful news; Kris was moving. And not just moving away, but to Washington, on the other side of the country. We only had a week left together.

This period of time consisted of me moping around the house, too sad and upset to even see my best friend.

But, when Sunday came, and it was Kris’ last day, I found myself crying. I cried all morning, and finally, sometime in the afternoon, Mother kicked me out of our house; saying some fresh air would do me good.

As I wandered around, I came to find myself in the wood let area next to the Middle School, Taft. This was where Kris and I had always hung out at during the summer.

I sat down on a fallen and decaying tree, and was going to mope even more when I saw Kris. He was crying.

One thing you must know is that Kris never cried. Not once. He was the one who would comfort me when I cried.

As I walked over to him, he dried his face on the plaid sleeve of his coat. Then he turned to me.

“Spring’s coming. You can see the trees blooming everywhere,” Kris said through short gasps of tears. “Its like friendship, it keeps blooming through good and bad.”

“I guess… I never thought about that,” I said.

“Even though I’m moving, we will always be friends, just like the always coming spring. Mo matter how long and harsh the winter is, we always have sweet and gentle spring there for us.”

“You promise?” I asked.

“I promise, Allie,” Kris said.

“I don’t want you to go. Not now, not ever,” I said.

“I don’t want to go either,” Kris said.

Kris then got up and walked over to me. He pointed towards the trunk of a nearby tree.

“See that blooming flower?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty,” I replied.

Kris went over and picked it. “Here,” he said, “It’s a going away present, just for you.”

“Thank you, Kris.” I said, tears coming to my eyes. “I thought the present went the other way.”

“Don’t cry, ok. You know I can’t stand it when you cry,” Kris pleaded.

“I can’t help it,” I managed to say as the tears spilled over. Kris came over and hugged me, tightly. We stood like that for what seemed like hours. But it was some of the best time I have ever wasted. Me and Kris: Kris and me.

It has been years since Kris left and there is no longer the occasional email. But nothing can even begin to compare to the good old days. When winter was turning into spring.

Now, this year I hear birds chirping and I see a beautiful white peony flower blooming next to an old Oak tree, and my mind races back to the old memories of years ago: when I stood under this very tree, in the arms of my best friend, holding that beautiful white peony. For all eternity.

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