Introduction by Nancy Lindemeyer

Ask almost any woman about her first best friend, and you will most likely experience a moment of silence, then a burst of memories of what her childhood was like. Whispering and giggling, hand in hand, young girlfriends entertain, comfort, enlighten, and shape each other at a precious time when their self-images are just being formed.

In My First Best Friend, Nancy Lindemeyer, the founding editor of Victoria magazine, gathers thirty intimate and touching stories of these early friendships. Whether the girlhood bonds survived into adulthood or dissolved because of unbridgeable separations, each story reminds us that however far we travel in life, we remain close to the roots of our childhood. As readers get to know the subjects of these stories—women of all ages, from all over the United States—they will inevitably be carried back to their own youth and recall the freshness of that once-in-a-lifetime first friendship

Foreword by Denise Di Novi, Di Novi Productions

My lifetime interest in storytelling began when I was a little girl daydreaming tales and running hand in hand with my first best friend. I had no idea then that I would spend my professional life in telling women's stories in films, like Little Women, which I produced in 1993. When I was involved in the production of the film, a retelling of Louisa May Alcott's classic, I invited Nancy Lindemeyer, then editor of Victoria magazine, to visit the set in Vancouver, Canada. We shared mugs of tea in the hectic location office and laughed together about the refreshing quality despite the lack of ceremony. We discovered then that we also were both passionately interested in the lives of the women—and the things that matter most to them.

When Nancy asked me to write a foreword to this book, my thoughts reeled back to Kit Shannon, my first best friend. Her name always conjured up a heroine from an old folk song or fairy tale. Her large Irish family seemed just that magical and exotic in the surroundings of our San Fernando Valley elementary school. In fifth grade, when we were separated and placed in different classes, we set a day for what we would now call "play dates." We were determined to keep our friendship going.

I remember that every Wednesday, I would forget to meet her at the school gate, walking home in a daze only to be reminded by my heartsick mother of my forgetfulness. My mother knew that Kit, who was as gentle and sensitive as she herself was, would be worried. I would then run back the three blocks to find Kit waiting patiently. I quickly grabbed her hand and ran back home with her. She never complained; she never held it against me. I think she knew it was just the way I was and it had nothing to do with my feelings for her.

Kit had to remind me many times to bring home a math book or turn in a paper and always delighted in the ‘crazy stories” I would make up. (My daydreaming was often in overdrive, when I should have been paying attention in class.) I had the sense even then that Kit appreciated what was really important--having wisdom beyond her years. It would take me much longer to reach her level of maturity.

I especially remember how her wonderful Irish immigrant father spent weeks refurbishing and painting an old bike as a present for Kit's birthday. When we both saw it for the first time, there were tears of joy in her eyes. I knew it was because she understood how hard her father had worked to please her—not that the bicycle itself was anything particularly special. She rode it proudly beside my brand new Schwinn with the sparkle paint and banana handlebars. Somehow we both realized that she was very lucky.

When we went to different junior high schools, we drifted apart and lost touch. But more than 40 years later, now, she is as real and meaningful to me as ever. Her unconditional friendship, her kindnesses, and the warmth of her family were lessons that left an indelible print on me.

What is clear from the stories in this book is that nearly all women have deep in their hearts and minds planted such seemingly taken-for-granted little friends—mirror images in which our own self-image begins to take place. However far we travel in life, we remain close to the roots of our childhood. As you become acquainted with the women whose stories are told here, you will inevitably be carried back to your own youth and recall the freshness of that first friendship and experience the recognition that comes with shared interests and a child’s once-in-a-lifetime imaginative life.