Carmen squeezed her father’s hand from the driveway of her home as she saw the beautiful and noticeably wealthy young girl about her age step out of the large moving truck into the arid, New Mexican heat. She had a pale, white face which would eventually get tanned and turn into a color similar to her bronze curls, which fell as ringlets over her shoulders. These weren’t the only features of this girl, but she was also a well-to-do, aristocratic daughter of a wealthy businessman. She was nothing like Carmen; she wasn’t a common accountant’s messy little girl, whose hair was as brittle as sand, with scabs, bruises, and cuts all over her legs and arms. Carmen was tempted to go up and talk to the girl, yet she cringed in fear of a downright rejection. She let go of her father’s hand and ran back into the house.

Two weeks later, Carmen was picking flowers from the backyard garden when her attention turned to the fence shared by her family and the girl’s family. Carmen walked over and stared at the backyard of the new girl’s house. There she was (the girl), playing by herself with a bright pink ball. The elegant, floral perfume on her skin was in the air, tickling Carmen’s nose.

“Oh, how badly I wish I could talk to her,” thought Carmen.

“Well, are you going to go up to her and say something?” whispered a voice. It was Carmen’s father, who surreptitiously snuck up on her. “What are you honestly afraid of, a rejection? Well, it takes a lot of nerve to reject a person directly, as it does to bravely go up and propose friendship. Think, she’s new, without a friend. She may be richer and sophisticated than you, but when it comes to friendship between two people, it’s like a balance scale. The difference though, is that no matter how much classiness, superiority, or wealth one puts in more than the other, the measurement will always be equal. “

After these words, Carmen valiantly marched out of her backyard and went up to the girl’s backyard gate and politely knocked. The high vibrations of the ball bouncing abruptly stopped. In a matter of seconds, the gate flew open and she was face to face with the girl.

“My name’s Carmen Sanchez,” began Carmen, “I live next door. Can I also play with that ball of yours?”

“I’m Carla Valero,” spoke the girl jubilantly, “and sure you could play. I was getting a bit bored bouncing this ball all by myself!” Suddenly, Carmen felt a coolness of overwhelmed joy and relief that spread through her face more than the irritating intensity of the sun beating down on her skin. The girls played together until it was evening.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” asked Carla. “My mom is making tacos. Then, we can go to my room and dress my dolls!” Spicy tacos were Carmen’s favorite, and just mentioning the food made her mouth water. She and her new friend went into the house to have Mrs. Valero’s delicious food.


From that day forward, Carmen’s judgment on friendship changed. She realized that there is no status, ethnicity, or class required to have a friendship. It is just like what her father said, “When it comes to friendship between two people, it’s like a balance scale. The difference though, is that no matter how much classiness, superiority, or wealth one puts in more than the other, the measurement will always be equal. “