"The Unexpected Friend"
A story about how an unlikely friendship changed everything.
I never expected to become friends with someone like Marco. We were from two different
worlds—he was loud, I was quiet; he liked sports, I preferred books; he was always surrounded
by people, and I preferred solitude. In high school, we barely acknowledged each other’s
existence, except for the occasional nod or shared group project. But life, in its usual
unpredictable way, brought us together in a moment that would turn into one of the most
unexpected and meaningful friendships of my life.
It all began one Monday morning when our teacher announced a new project for Values
Education. We were to form pairs and spend the next two weeks volunteering at a local shelter as
part of a community service program. The twist? We couldn’t choose our partners. The teacher
had already randomly assigned them.
I glanced at the paper posted on the board, and my heart skipped. “Marco and [My Name].”
At first, I thought it was a mistake.
Marco? The boy who shouted across hallways and made the whole class laugh with his jokes?
Me? The girl who read poetry during lunch breaks?
Our first meeting was awkward. We didn’t know what to say, so we stuck to the basics: who
would bring what, what time we’d meet, and how long we’d stay. The first day at the shelter was
even more uncomfortable. We served food to the residents in silence, barely exchanging glances.
I noticed Marco’s nervousness when a child tugged at his sleeve. He clearly wasn’t used to
situations like these. But neither was I.
Then something surprising happened.
A young boy named Carlo refused to eat his meal unless Marco fed him. “Kuya, ikaw. Ikaw
magpakain,” he insisted. Marco looked at me, panicked, but I shrugged. So, he sat beside the boy
and began feeding him, clumsily at first. But Carlo giggled after every bite, and slowly, Marco
relaxed. By the end of the meal, they were laughing together.
“I didn’t know he’d like me,” Marco said later that day as we walked home. “I thought kids
didn’t like loud people.”
“Maybe he saw something in you that we didn’t,” I replied.
That moment was the first crack in the wall between us.
Over the next two weeks, our conversations grew. I learned Marco wasn’t just the class clown.
He had a younger sister who was born with a heart defect. He spent most of his weekends at
hospitals, and maybe that was why he used humor so often—to hide the heaviness he carried. In
return, I shared with him my love for writing and how I used words to escape my own struggles
with self-worth.
Our friendship deepened as we shared more meals at the shelter, more laughter with the kids, and
more truths on the way home.
When the project ended, we both felt it shouldn't stop there.
We stayed friends long after the assignment. And our classmates? They were surprised—some
even teased us. But we didn’t care. We knew our friendship wasn’t based on similarities. It was
based on understanding, acceptance, and shared growth.
Marco taught me to loosen up, to laugh at myself, and to stop overthinking every little thing. I
taught him how to sit still, to listen, and to find peace in silence. We balanced each other out in
ways neither of us expected.
Years later, even as life pulled us in different directions, we still checked in from time to time.
And every time we do, I’m reminded of that first day at the shelter—the beginning of a
friendship that taught me that sometimes, the best connections are the ones you never saw
coming.
