Two little girls grew up very close to each other…so close people would exclaim: “You two are like two peas in a pod.”
Now that wasn’t really so, as one was tall and dark and the other was short with red hair. But they went everywhere together. They played games, went to Brownies, rode horseback, had fun. So much fun.
The redhead’s granny would comment, “You’re just like two peas in a pod.”
And they thought they were…or wanted to be.
They loved each other so much. They yearned to be closer than friends. To be sisters, cousins, something blood-thick.
Then they grew up and moved away. Away from their hometown. Away from each other. They married, had children, divorced, remarried, but they seldom saw each other. They were left as only one pea in each pod.
Then something happened…a pull like a magnet caused them to come together in the same place at the same time, and there they were again. Two peas in a pod. Grandmothers, wives, older, but close again…heartstrings making them as close as two peas in a pod.