When I was in second grade, a new family moved in behind us. Our neighborhood was one that still had the metal gates that let you see into your neighbor's yards, not the wooden 7-footers that surround the back half of your property like a fort. There was even a gate that went between our yards so there was easy access to go play.

A couple of weeks before school started, this new family was taking a walk on our street when they stopped to talk to my sister and I who were playing in the front yard. They introduced me to their daughter, Jamie, who was going to be in the same grade as me and from that moment on we were like best friends.

Jamie and I were never in the same class the next few years we went to school together, but we always managed to pair up during recess and anytime outside of school. I can't remember being inside my house except to sleep and eat because I was always outside playing. We would play soccer with all of our friends in her back yard or everyone would be in our yard jumping on our trampoline. On other days, we would find creative ways to make a buck or two by selling lemonade or collecting recycling to take downtown. With our hard earned cash, we would ride our bikes to the gas station about a mile away and buy a soda or candy. It's strange how times have changed because kids aren't even free to be in the front yard now, yet back in the early nineties, I was gone from sun up to sundown and nothing ever threatened my safety.

The ironic thing is that although this girl was my sworn best friend for life (remember how you would spit on it?) I never told her how complicated my life was. Maybe her parents knew and that's why they always offered to have my sister and I over at their house.