Portrait of a Friend Have you ever had someone in your life who helped you figure out who you were? Someone who showed you the right path. Someone who was there right next you even if you did not take that path. Someone who always seemed to be right, but never held it against you when you were not. Someone whom without your life would most likely be entirely different. I have. Her name was Melissa. Melissa was more than my neighbor. She was more than my mentor. She was my best friend. Melissa lived three houses down from me when I moved into a new neighborhood. She made moving to a new neighborhood a lot easier. She was one of those people who was friends with everybody. She was friends with everyone because she was so special. She was always in a good mood, always had something pleasant to say, and no matter what was going on, she could get you to smile. Melissa was a few years older than me but we were both young. I was in the fifth grade and she was in junior high when we met. She was tall for her age and practically towered over me. She almost always kept her long golden hair pulled back into a pony tail because she was a bit of a tomboy and liked to be athletic. But when she let it down and it waved in the gentle breeze, there was no doubt she was a girl. Her facial features were very soft, yet if you met her once, you would never forget her name. She also had the deepest green eyes that would sparkle so bright when she flashed her pearly white teeth, she would light up an entire room. Everywhere she was, there would be laughter, smiles and happiness spreading out like some sort of delightful virus. She would listen to you. She would be your friend, even if she just met you. I can not remember a time when she had something unpleasant to say about someone. That was one of many valuable lessons I learned from her and have made apart of my life. She seemed to know everything. Anytime I had a perplexing question I knew she would know what to tell me.