My Best Friend Jenny

Who are your current most favorite people?

By Tracy Schruder

Currently, only one person comes to mind when I think of my favorite people – my best friend, Jenny. Jenny and I have been best friends since I was eight years old. She was a new student at our school, and her arrival coincided with the onset of winter. The big hills at our school were covered in snow, and back then, the teachers let us ride our sleds with reckless abandon.

On the day Jenny arrived, I had been playing “queen of the hill,” pushing other kids around and taking their turns on the hill. I wasn’t being nice that day; on the contrary, I was being an enormous brat. That year, I went through at least three best friends, all before November. I wasn’t a good friend or a nice friend, and I often took full advantage of people. I’d convinced myself of my entitlements, and the other girls who were unlucky enough became my best friends or targets, suffered the consequences. I took things from these girls and wouldn’t return them – things like jewelry, toys, or whatever I wanted. This got me in hot water with the parents, and for the most part, these girls were forbidden to hang out with me. I don’t blame them for that.

I was in an angry period of my childhood, and there was so much going on at home that I took it out on people who might otherwise have liked me. So, on the day I ran into Jenny, literally, I was playing queen of the hill. She had cross-checked me and knocked me on my backside, sending sliding down the hill.

She slid down towards me and caught up at the bottom of the hill. Before I was able to catch my breath and struggle back to my feet, she was overtop of me. She jumped on top of me, straddling my waist, putting her knees on my arms so I couldn’t move them. I was furious. I pushed and struggled, but I couldn’t get her off me. I started to pant and cry, screaming at her to get off me. I became aware that she was the new kid, because I had no idea where this girl came from.

She refused to budge off of me until I apologized for being such a brat and agreed to stop bullying everyone. Right then and there I found myself Struggling with my very identity and her strength. it became clear to me that I had to either give in to her or continue to face the humiliation of this situation. I gave in. I yelled my defeated shame-drenched apology out to anyone who could hear it. I had to say it three times Before she let me up, she told me her name was Jenny and asked mine. Stumbling over my whimper and gasp, I responded, “Tracy. My name is Tracy. I’m sorry. Will you please get off me?”

After she got off me, we hung out and talked for the rest of recess. Until Jenny arrived, I was the toughest girl in class. This all changed that day, and being the toughest girl in class no longer mattered to me. I graciously gave it up to her. I guess there’s some truth to – “if you get too big for your britches, there’s always someone bigger that will knock you down to size.” Jenny wasn’t much bigger than me in size but she was bigger than me in heart.

A beautiful yet sometimes painful connection resulted from this. We started hanging around each other every day and on weekends. I met her family, and she met mine. Her mother worked in Ottawa but lived in the country and was looking for a place for Jenny to live throughout the week. I told her that my mom often took in my cousins and other people’s kids temporarily. It was decided that our parents would meet, which was a success, and Jenny and I were happy to be living together, becoming best friends, and all.

She stayed with us for two years, and we had our ups and downs. We broke our friendship several times during those two years, but it ended up being the best friendship of my lifetime. Each year after, until we were fifteen, we spent our summers together. Jenny moved back to Ottawa for a couple of years, so we had month-long visits and did all kinds of fun stuff. Then she moved back to our village, and we saw each other more often.

We grew apart, my house burned down that year, and I left our village. We lost touch and didn’t reconnect until 2009. It didn’t go well, as we both felt a sense of abandonment from each other, and I, of course, was being a brat to her.

I wasn’t yet ready to have a best friend again; I wasn’t in a good place emotionally. She never gave up on me, though. She would send the odd message and check in with me. Her life was good; she had gotten married and had a beautiful daughter. This pushed me further from her because I was grieving the fact that I couldn’t have children myself and was extremely jealous. I’m glad I got to experience this because it helped me realize how ridiculous jealousy is and I was not only able to get over it, I got over my own self, too.

A few years flipped by, and I grew up a lot. I learned how to appreciate Jenny, and I finally answered her messages in 2017. Ever since, we’ve been in regular contact. We visit each other every couple of months and have become a great support for each other.

I’m so grateful for Jenny, and she’s my favorite person because of her lifelong commitment to me and her tough but kind nature. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.