Dear Rebekah,

I used to wish there was a gang of boys in the woods who would let me join them. Girls weren't any fun.

Through the lacy curtain framing my bedroom window, I looked across the street into the woods and wished it so hard that I got jealous because the boys were playing, solving mysteries, hunting, without me.

Over and over again, my jealousy would turn into loneliness and prayers, because it was all just wishes.

Then from somewhere across the hills came a quiet, red haired girl, and I found out for the first time that girls can be good friends.

And as the years rolled by, wishes turned into trips, talks, summer job, winter job, laughs, growth, and dreams come true.

The happiest of Birthdays to you, dear old friend.

Layla