A few more thoughts about Chris and Austin after watching them side-by-side at Passover last night. For the sixth straight year (so they claim), one of them found the hidden afikomen -- worth a bit more last night with "Uncle" Randy Harris providing the reward cash. They used to agree that if one of them found it, they'd split the money 50-50. Last year they decided that while they should work together there should still be some extra reward for actually finding the hidden treasure. So now they have a 70-30 agreement. Winner gets 70% of the haul; partner gets 30%. These boys were born just a month or two apart in 1992. And they've been buddies ever since. One loves music and likes sports. The other loves sports and likes music. The former has perfect pitch, a father who was a band director, and a mother who is an incredible classical pianist. The latter has parents who think the best musical instrument is a Bose speaker. The parents of the first child love all sorts of music, especially classical. The parents of the latter consider classical music to be the Eagles, CCR, and the best of Buffett. One of the boys has suffered the loss of a sister. The other has gone through the divorce of his parents. (I will say that it's been a divorce where he has continued to be completely loved by both parents, and where the parents have refused to turn against each other. They're in houses very close to each other so he and his sisters can walk back and forth.) On January 16, they were, not surprisingly, in the same vehicle coming back from WinterFest. One was taken by helicopter to Cook's. The other was taken by ambulance to Abilene and then flown in a plane to Cook's. They wound up side-by-side in ICU. It was just unbelievable, really. They had one little corner of that cavernous area. One nurse was assigned at each shift to the two of them. To make it easier to follow the vital signs, they would program the monitors so that each monitor had the numbers for both boys -- again, side-by-side. Last night as they sat across from me during Passover, I was so glad, so incredibly glad, that those places weren't empty this year. I've coached them both, I've preached to them both, and I've watched them together for the first twelve years of their lives. And I'm reminded of this: Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! (Eccl. 4:9-10) Who knows if they'll always be friends? I'm guessing so. Of course they both have lots of other buds to hang around with too. (For the most part they haven't discovered girls -- at least I don't think they have. But what do I know? I am an aging preacher.) But this friendship goes back to the very beginning of their lives. Anyone out there have one of those friendships -- one that goes back to your earliest days and that has lasted through the years?