When Little Girl was barely old enough to have a sweetheart, she had a sweetheart.  Before then, Little Girl had had some friends here and there, but after the sweetheart came along, she spent so much time with him that before long he became mostly her only friend.

But after a while, Little Girl and the sweetheart went their separate ways, as does so often happen, and Little Girl found herself in a pickle.

“I’m in a pickle,” Little Girl said to herself, as she sat alone in a crowd one day.

“My sweetheart has gone and now I don’t have a friend anymore.”

And Little Girl felt sad, and a wee bit sorry for herself.

“Hello”, said a cheery voice.  The cheery voice belonged to another little girl, who smiled at Little Girl and came and sat down beside her.  

“You’re looking sad.  I’m sorry about that.  We can talk about it, if you like.”

Little Girl smiled back and decided that she would indeed like to talk about it.  And so she did.  (Talking about herself was something she was quite good at.)

As she talked about herself and her pickle, the other little girl listened and nodded, and seemed to understand.  And Little Girl found that the listening and the nodding, and the being understood, made her feel a lot better.

A few days later, a remarkable thing happened.  Little Girl received a phone call.  It was from the other little girl who had telephoned simply to say “Hello” and “How are you?”.

“What a remarkable thing”, thought Little Girl.  “No-one has ever telephoned me before simply to say “Hello” and “How are you?”.  It was nice.

But then the remarkable thing happened again a few days later, and it kept happening.  Until Little Girl realised that she now had a new friend, and she was a very good one.  She was kind and funny, and very good at listening to Little Girl talk about any and all pickles.

Time went by, until it turned into months and then years.  Little Girl and the other little girl remained very good friends.  Well, at least the other little girl was a very good friend.  You see, she knew what being a very good friend was really about.  It was about being kind, and listening and nodding and understanding.  It was about talking too, which she did.  But she did more of the other stuff.  And she kept on doing it, even when it wasn’t easy.  And even when Little Girl wasn’t such a good friend back.  Because Little Girl hadn’t quite learnt the lesson of what being a very good friend was really about.  

Little Girl gradually made other friends too – many lovely and very precious friends.  Often, these friends listened to her and nodded and understood.  But sometimes these friends needed her to do the same for them.  And that was a bit different.

Little Girl began to think about what being a very good friend was all about, and then she began to realise just what a very good friend that other little girl had been to her over all the years.  And also what she had learnt from her.

She had learnt that friendship is not just talking about your own pickles, but listening and nodding and understanding other people’s pickles too.  It’s about making phone calls, not just receiving them, and about being a very good friend even when it’s not particularly easy.

As she practised trying to be a very good friend to others, Little Girl realised that being a good friend and having good friends was a very precious thing indeed.  In fact, it became even more precious to her than chocolate, which was another remarkable thing to happen. And it was nice. Particularly and especially nice.

“I’m so glad that I’ve had a very good friend who taught me what it is to be a very good friend,” she said to herself. “If she hadn’t come along and sat down beside me, goodness knows what a pickle I would still be in!”