The other day I was discussing this column with a friend of mine. When asked what I should write about, she jokingly suggested that I write a column about how amazing she is. I smiled sarcastically, and then began to mentally plan out this particular column.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be just ranting and raving about all of the wonderful things about her. I am thinking something a little bit different, something like this.

First of all, she likes blueberry muffins and bubbles. She is the kind of girl who can find endless joy in skipping through rain puddles. She has this way of finding something special in the little things.

There are these bits of existence that often go unnoticed by the masses. The smell of flowers in an urban window box, the warm feel of a handmade sweater against your skin, the soft coo of an inquisitive child at play. These are the sorts of things that make Paulina smile-the simple things.

Despite all of life’s personal pitfalls, all of the obstacles thrown in front of her, she manages to maintain a certain degree of positivism. She has a view of the world that I often envy. She sees almost everything as something wonderful. There is a strength in that, a power to change the bad into good that I wish I had.

She is not perfect by any means. None of us are. Actually, one time she tried to make up for the towering injustice of canceling a search for the city’s best cupcake by presenting me with a handful of burnt chocolate chip cookies. The nerve.

But, sometimes you forgive the bag of burnt cookies in return for the caring. You look past the flaws and find the compassion.

There is this specific joke that she loves to tell. It is about a duck and a bartender, something to do with “gwapes” and a stapler. Honestly, it is not very funny, so I am not going to repeat it here, but, despite the lack of mature humor, it is okay because she smiles when she tells it.

It is redeeming, really. No matter how many times you hear the joke, no matter how bad it is, the smile is always worth it.

It is hard to write about a friend. You are always worried that you may have said too much, or not enough. You think that perhaps you may not have painted them correctly with your words.

But, in the end, you realize that none of these words really matter much, as they are only words. These letters strung together here mean absolutely nothing if they are not backed by actions, by caring.

And, that is what Paulina does as a friend. She walks the walk.