She stood there in the heat looking at struggling tomatoes, beans and basil intermittently spread through the garden box...and what was that plant that seemed neither weed nor wanted?

With a sigh she leaned into her dad who stood next to her. "Isn't this just my life? A little bit of everything and nothing done well?"

When she told me about it later, she laughed, and I had to chuckle...really, who hasn't felt that way? To laugh about it is a sure way to keep from crying, and to share it with a friend who knows brings the fear into the light of day; dissipating shadows of self doubt.

And yet I was amazed. I knew her well and she was solid. Nothing wavering. I wanted to be her when I grew up. And here she was, unsure of her offerings, and I admired her all the more.