I Believe in Rocks

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I believe in rocks. Not just any rock, but my rock in particular. My rock is grey and smooth. It has little grooves on it as though fingers have held it tightly, and often…because they have. My best friend, Zoe, gave me this rock in third grade.

My rock has a hole right in the middle, and I don’t know how it got there. Zoe and I have wondered about this for years. I remember talking to my dad about how the hole was made. He said maybe it was from a cave man. But my mom thinks Native Americans made it. I think agree with my mom.

I’ve had my rock for three or four years now. I’ve kept it so long because it reminds me of many funny and cool memories with my family and friends. Once, we thought the rock was a seeing stone. If we looked through it, we’d see goblins. I no longer run around in the woods with it, looking for goblins and dragons and things. But Zoe and I still wonder where the hole came from.

When Zoe gave me the rock, she said her twin sister found it in a creek near their house. We were getting ready to leave from school when she pulled the rock right out of her backpack. I’m pretty sure I traded with her for the rock. I gave her some toy we were into at the time. But as we got older, the rock kind of became both of ours.

Zoe and I spent a lot of time playing together with the rock. Sometimes, looking at the rock, I almost feel like it’s talking to me. It feels like it says, “Remember when we did this?” Like when we did rock photography hanging it from trees. And I do. I could never throw away the rock or get rid of it. It was totally worth more than the crummy toy I gave her, but it’s not like she’s mad about it or anything. Zoe and I share the rock now. I still hold onto it, but it’s hers too. The rock is a symbol of our friendship. It holds us together.

We haven’t talked about the rock lately, but I guess there isn’t much to talk about. Now we mostly just do each other’s makeup and talk. I guess I never believed that a rock could have so much meaning. But now, after thinking about my friendship with Zoe more, I know better. Our rock holds all sorts of memories and is a symbol of friendship.

I believe in friendship. The rock Zoe and I share proves that we were and are friends. It’s kind of like a little flag or footprint on the moon that says, “We were here! And we still are, so watch out!” I believe in my shared rock and how it reminds me of a good friendship.


Pine Grove Mills
Oct 27, 2011

I love this essay almost as much as I love rocks!

Carol Ann Defaranos
West Haven, CT
Oct 27, 2011

I believe this is a story of a beautiful friendship that will last for many years to come.  Friendship is a gift from the heart to be shared with someone special.  Sofi Skidgel relates this perfectly in her essay.

Emilio Zabaleta
Palm Beach, Florida
Oct 28, 2011

That’s my Grand Daughter !!!!
Great Essay, deep feelings and meaning

Tina Maranas
State college
Jan 07, 2013


Bobby Bob
Jan 07, 2013


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