By DAVID EPPS
Pastor

My wife and I had just boarded a train in Cairns, in northeast Australia, for an hour-and-a-half ride up the mountains to the rain forest. We waited in the warm winter sun, for that is the season there at this time of the year, and, when the whistle blew, we clamored aboard Car #6, which was in the middle of the train. We sat side by side in a seat designed to equip four people facing another seat of the same design.

In a few minutes, the trained had filled with people and left the station. Cindy sat next to the window with me at her left. To my left was a Canadian couple that had retired to South Carolina and across from us sat four ladies that I estimated to be in their 70s, or perhaps early 80s. They were all originally from Southern New Jersey, although one of them currently lived in North Carolina. It wasn't long before we learned that they had all been friends since their youth.

The apparent ringleader of the group, for she was the one that kept the conversation lively and constant, had been married, in the 1940's, to a professional baseball player. He had come up in the minor leagues with Tommy Lasorda but, as Lasorda had gone with the Dodgers, he had become part of the New York Giants. We talked about the state of major league baseball and about young millionaires threatening to strike.

She dismissed the modern players with a sniff and a wave of her hand and, in her distinct New Jersey accent, even more prominent "down under," talked about the days when her husband made $50 a game playing the sport he loved. In her opinion, the real men of baseball, with a few exceptions, had long passed from the scene.

These ladies, so full of life and laughter, had all been married in the 1940s and, along the way, all had become widowed. Yet, throughout the decades, they had remained close friends and, for years, had taken vacations together. They loved England and Scotland, they shared, and had really enjoyed Rome.

They had traveled in the United States, too, and, now, here they were in Australia 10,000 miles from New Jersey and North Carolina, riding a train to get to a rain forest.

Their friendship had endured for at least 50 years and they seemed prepare to make the most out of the next 50. After an hour or so of watching the interaction between them, I had to ask, "Have you ladies, by chance, seen 'The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood?'" Not only had they seen the movie, they laughed, they had all read the book. They then began to discuss the various characters in the book.

The "Ya-Ya Sisterhood," of course, is all about several little girls who became fast friends in childhood and maintained that closeness into their golden years. Throughout their lives, in the fictional story, they watched out for each other and helped the others when needed. "No doubt about it," I silently mused, "these gals are the real Ya-Ya's."

During the walk around the little town where we debarked the train, we kept running into the Ya-Ya's, as Cindy and I now affectionately called them (behind their backs, of course). We could see them helping each other in and out of seats, holding doors open, helping each other across the busy streets, and calling to the others when one made an interesting discovery. These women didn't just like each other-they absolutely loved each other.

These weren't elderly, feeble persons either! Although they had gray hair, except for the ballplayer's wife who proudly shared that she was a "brunette from a bottle," and had been AARP members for years and years, they were full of vitality, humor, laughter, and life. Finally, later in the day, we all ate in the same restaurant and, though they appeared a bit weary, they were excited about what the next day would bring.

Later, I thought, "It isn't too early or too late to start making friends like that." I hope that, for both my wife and myself, we will have the same kind of enduring friends to the end of our days. When all is said and done, aside from "treasure laid up in heaven," the only things that really last, that truly endure, are family and friends.

Long live the Ya-Ya's! May they be there for each other for decades to come!

[The Reverend Canon David Epps is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church in the Coweta/Fayette County area of south metro Atlanta. He may be contacted at FatherDavidEpps@aol.com or at www.ctkcec.org.]

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