People come in and out of our lives, and the true test of

“People come in and out of our lives, and the true test of friendship is whether you can pick back up right where you left off the last time you saw each other.” Thus spoke Lisa See, a chronicler of hearts and histories, whose words remind us of the enduring, mysterious thread that binds souls across time and distance. Her saying is not merely about companionship, but about the constancy of the spirit — the power of true friendship to withstand silence, separation, and the long passage of years. For the heart that is loyal knows no measure of time; it remembers, as the earth remembers the spring, even after the coldest of winters.

In the days of old, when travelers set forth on perilous journeys and years passed before their return, friendship was not a thing of convenience, but of faith. Those who truly loved one another in spirit did not require endless words or letters; their bond lived in quiet endurance. When they met again, though gray had touched their temples and the seasons had changed, their laughter would rise as if not a moment had passed. Such friendship is not forged of daily contact, but of mutual understanding — an unspoken knowing that transcends the frailty of time. This is the kind of friendship Lisa See invokes: one that does not fade with absence, but deepens in the silence between meetings.

To understand her meaning, we must see that friendship is a living thing, yet unlike love, it asks for no constant tending. It is like a fire buried beneath ashes — dormant, but not dead. It waits only for a breath, a glance, a shared memory, to burst again into flame. When one meets a true friend after many years apart, and the old warmth rises as though it had never left, that is the mark of something divine. Such friendship belongs not to the passing world, but to the eternal realm of the heart, where distance and time lose their dominion.

Consider the tale of Jonathan and David, the ancient friends of Scripture. Their paths diverged — one to the throne, the other to exile. The winds of politics and war swept them far from each other’s sight. Yet when they met again after long years, their hearts knew one another instantly. They wept together, not for what was lost, but for what had never died — their bond of loyalty, unbroken by time or fate. Their friendship was not diminished by absence, but proven by it. In such stories, we see that the truest friendship is not measured by presence, but by remembrance; not by words, but by the quiet endurance of love.

Lisa See, who writes of family and memory, knew this truth well. Her words arise from the understanding that life scatters us — through work, through distance, through the ceaseless turning of the years. Friends drift apart as rivers branch toward the sea. Yet the true test of friendship is not whether we walk side by side, but whether, when our paths cross again, our souls still recognize each other. The friend who meets you after years and sees not what you’ve become, but who you are — that is a treasure beyond price. Such friendship is proof that love has not aged, only ripened.

Therefore, let us not mourn the spaces between visits, nor the silences between words. Instead, let us nurture the quiet faith that those we cherish will remain connected to us by unseen threads. Reach out when you can, but fear not when life pulls you apart. For if your friendship is true, you will find one another again — and the moment you do, it will be as though the years have folded into a single breath. The laughter will return, the affection will bloom, and the bond will stand as firm as ever.

Learn this, then: true friendship does not demand, it endures. It does not keep score, nor fade with neglect. It is the echo that answers even when no voice has called for years. So when you think of those dear to you, smile instead of sorrowing. Trust that when the time is right, you will meet again, and the flame will leap anew. For in the grand circle of life, friends come and go as the tides, but the sea itself — the love that binds them — remains. And that, my child, is the secret of eternal friendship: not the nearness of bodies, but the nearness of souls.