.. you said if ever I needed a friend..." her voice was slurred – she was in a mess. Dirty, clothes torn, a swelling round one eye that was going to...be a real shiner. Blood from assorted grazes, a split lip."Come in," I told her. She staggered as she stepped inside and I reached out to steady her. Guided her to a chair. "Want to tell me what happened?" I fetched out first-aid requisites and began to clean a graze on her cheek. She shrugged."One of the risks of my career choice," she spoke. Small plaques adorned the entire area, each with apicture, a name, and a signature.I'd stared at each and every one of them, amazed at some of the peoplewhom my dad's company represented. And when he pointed out where myplaque had been placed, I smiled. Dad had been reserving a prominent areafor a 'special' artist for as long as I could remember. He said that someday he would represent somebody whom he was so proud of that they wouldhave the honor of having her or his picture displayed. More

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