Dear future hubster,
I know I've discussed this before, but in my gipsy life, the subject becomes relevant every now and again: how friends happen to you.
The choice of words is deliberate here, as I'm a strong believer and frequent beneficiary of accidental friendships. The kind where you bump into a person in a random kitchen (often somebody else's), at a work lunch, classroom, and the next thing you know is you're discussing your (often miserable) love life with them.
Now it's obvious that I don't mean the 'next thing' literally here. I normally put prospective friends on a probation period, and only start talking about boys and literature after they've passed. But the point is that the initial contact was made by accident. We don't walk into those kitchens, lunches, classrooms etc with the intention of finding a great friend. They happen when they are meant to happen.
This doesn't mean we don't have a choice. Oh yes we do. We choose which ones we want to keep, and we choose to put in the effort. In moments of grace, they choose to do the same.