We met on a staff meeting day. We’d both brought baked goods, trying to make a good impression and win the hearts of our brand-new co-workers. Even then, a slight competitive edge mixed in with the scents of brownies and breads, I knew we’d be friends.


Hilary and I began internships at Word Made Flesh within a month of each other. We soon shared important times together: retreats, KISWs (Keep It Simple Wednesdays, pronounced “kiss-wuhs”), prayer times, slumber parties when she lived out west and when the blizzard hit. 


She invited me to her church. Introduced me to her friends, who are now my friends. Spent extra-curricular time with me and slowly, slowly let me know the real her.


Our internships ended, and she took time off from WMF, while I committed to another three years. But by then, we were roommates and best friends. 


When she decided to come back to WMF, we all rejoiced. She’d been advocating all along. But desk work is hard for her. Sitting still is hard for her. Being quiet in an office is hard for her. Still, she came back to care for the community. Because that’s who she is.


Together we served on food committees and cleanup crews. We carpooled to work. Living together, working together. Never has it gone so well.


But as the years passed, it came time for me to move on. It was hard for her. But she celebrated my service. She commemorated my work.


And now it is her time to move on. No more desks. No more sitting still and quiet. 


I wish I’d done more to celebrate her last day, to remember the sacrifices she’s made and thank her for serving the organization we’ve both called home. 


Instead I’ll simply put into the electronic world:
Thank you, Hilary. Thank you for loving this community with all you could. Thank you for the many sacrifices you’ve made, for trying so hard for so long to serve in a capacity that doesn’t suit you. Thank you for always bringing your fun, loving spirit into the place. Thank you for reminding us that relationships come first. Always. 


And thank you you for having the courage to move on, stepping toward your dreams and away from the comfortable — it is inspiring.