Joanne Levy - Sorry for Your Loss

You should use crepe paper for that, said the boy sitting beside me.

It was only my second day at Camp Shalom, and we were doing crafts in the big lodge. We were supposed to be sailing, but it had been canceled because of thunderstorms.

The counselor had just given us an introduction to the art of paper quilling. She showed us how to coil strips of paper into different shapes. I was making a flowerone round coil for the center and a bunch of teardrop shapes for the petals.

Well, I was trying to make a flowerit just wasnt going so well.

I looked up at the kid whod spoken to me. His friendly smile reached right up to his brown eyes. I liked him immediately. But Id been so focused on getting the tiny rolls perfect that I hadnt actually heard what hed said.

I blinked at him a couple of times. Sorry, what?

He glanced down at the red paper strip in my hands. Itand my fingerswere covered in glue. Youre making a flower, right?

Ha! I said. Im surprised you could tell!

He laughed. Crepe paper would make it look more realistic. Thinner and more wavy and fluttery, you know? Like real petals on an actual flower.

I stared at him for a second. His shaggy brown hair was exactly the same color as his eyes. He shrugged. Just saying.

Huh. I considered the mangled mess pinched between my fingers. I tried to picture my daisy made with the thinner, crinkly crepe paper. The stuff that reminded me of birthday streamers. Maybe youre right, I said. I kind of like that idea. Thanks.

He flicked his bangs out of his eyes with a nod. The texture makes it more interesting than regular flat paper.

What are you making? I asked, pointing my chin at the stack of colorful paper squares in front of him. They werent cut into thin strips like the rest of us were using.

He smiled again. I like foldingorigami, he said. I tried working with the strips last year, but theyre too small. He held up his fingers and wiggled them. My dad says I have big hands made for throwing footballs. Origamis more my jam.

To show me, he took one of the squaresa pink oneand folded it in half. And then he turned it and folded it again. His fingers moved so quickly I lost track of the steps. Over and over he folded the paperthis way, that way. Next thing I knew, he was handing me something that looked a lot like the hydrangeas Mom had in her garden, the ones I used to call flower pom-poms.

If I hadnt just watched him make it, Id never have believed that you could turn a sheet of paper into a beautiful flower.

Whoa, I said, examining it more closely. So many tiny folds. Thatswhoa. This is really cool. Can you show me how to do it?

He grinned at me, his sort of crooked teeth all on display. Im Sam, by the way.

I liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and smiled back.

Im Evie. Well, its Evelyn, but you can call me Eviethats what I like best. Some people, like teachers, and my parents when theyre mad, call me Evelyn, but I prefer Evie. Just Evie, I said. And then, because I was worried I was being too bossy, I added, Please and thank you.

So let me get this straight. Youre saying I should call you Evelyn? the boySamreplied. Thats what youre telling me?

I laughed. Exactly. What about you? Is your full name Samuel? Or is it Samson, like in the Torah?

It is Samson, he said, surprised. But most people just assume its Samuel, so good on you.

And just like that, our friendship began. All because of paper flowers. It sounds like a dad joke to say our friendship bloomed. But thats how it happened.

Unfortunately, later that summer I learned that, just like flowers, friendships can wither away.

Thats when I decided I was done with having friends.