"Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other's gold," went the song we sang in rounds, gathered around the campfire when I was a Girl Scout. I think the Scouts ingrained the value of friendship by having us sing this again and again.

With my old friends, I often don't have to explain a lot about my childhood because they were right there with me. I don't have to recount what Indianapolis used to be and why it was called "Naptown," an outmoded moniker. Every time I get together with one long-standing friend, she can reminisce about more events that happened in grade school and junior high than I even remember. I treasure these conversations that take me back into my roots.

My thoughts then run to a recent evening with new friends. They are Indy "lifers" with whom it was fun to make connections from their Indianapolis experiences, he on the westside and she on the eastside. My husband and I grew up as northsiders so there we were: Washington and Howe vs. Shortridge and North Central for an evening of matching stories and childhoods. Hours later we were still exchanging tales.

I loved hearing this new friend recount how she and her mother used to get on the bus anticipating a day of shopping and lunch at L.S. Ayres (white gloves required). This brought back my memories of the cafeteria in Ayres' basement and the 8th floor Tea Room and Tray Shop. We shared our favorites in each― in the basement eatery mine was the pea and carrot sandwich, hers was the raisin-nut bread spread with cream cheese. We both concurred the Snow Princess dessert was our Tea Room favorite during the style shows. Then suddenly there was an "ah-ha moment" when we both realized we were probably watching my husband's mother stroll the fashion runway as an Ayres model.

Our worlds seemed smaller that evening as we traded names, places, and events back and forth. Silver did in fact epitomize the occasion, which seemed to sparkle. How amazing it is that my girlhood song of "Make new friends but keep the old" seems ever more meaningful as the years pass.