Not The Quantity, but the Quality

The old man turned to me and asked "How many friends have you?" Why 10 or 20 friends have I, And named off just a few... He rose quite slow with effort And sadly shook his head "A lucky child you are To have so many friends," he said But think of what you're saying There is so much you do not know A friend is just not someone To whom you say "Hello".

	A friends a tender shoulder On which to softly cry A well to pour your troubles down And raise your spirits high A friend is a hand to pull you up From darkness and despair... When all your other "so called" friends Have helped to put you there A true friend is an ally Who can't be moved or bought A voice to keep your name alive When others have forgot But most of all a friend is a heart A strong and sturdy wall For from the hearts of friends There comes the greatest love of all!!! So think of what I've spoken For every word is true And answer once again my child How many friends have you??? And then he stood and faced me Awaiting my reply Softly I answered "If lucky...... one have "1" "You!!!!"