I’ve always been proud of my 1979 brown Ford Fairmont. I recall a year ago on my 16th birthday when my parents led me to the front yard where my car sat in the driveway with a big red bow. I let out a whoop and ran over to my new set of wheels.

Mom had hung a pair of dice from the mirror, and dad had installed a new cassette player. I looked at the license plate and gasped. “MAK” it read in big letters—my nickname—for all to see.

The inside was gorgeous. New seat covers lined the seats, and it beckoned me to take it for a spin. It was old but well-maintained. It wasn’t flashy, but it was functional. No more asking to borrow Mom’s minivan or Dad’s work truck. Nope. This car was mine—all mine! And best of all? It was a total guy magnet—obviously, not because of its looks, but because it was such a novelty.

Since that day, many a fun time has been spent in “Nellie,” as I call my car. My best friend, Landree, and I, along with other friends, have spent time driving to and from football games, cruising Main Street in our small town and going out for ice cream. I haven’t even minded hauling my little sister, Madi, to and from her activities.

And Out of Nowhere
I loved my car, so why was I so attacked by the envy bug on a certain day in April? Why suddenly did something materialistic matter?

When Landree pulled into my driveway, I was finishing up some homework.

“Mak! Mak!” I heard her voice even before she reached the front door. I ran to the window and gasped. In our driveway, sitting next to Nellie, was a shiny red sports car. Nellie looked drab in comparison, like a tent next to a million-dollar mansion.

“Mak! Mak!” I could hear Landree knocking on the door. “You have to come see the new car I got for my birthday!”

I opened the door and followed Landree to her new car. “Hop in!” she said. I slowly hopped into her car and sat on the leather seat.

“It’s brand new,” Landree said. “Look! It has a sunroof, heated seats and a killer CD player.” She popped in Building 429, and it sounded just like we were at a live concert. The windows and door locks were automatic, and I felt sick inside.

I had never minded before that my car had crank-down windows, old seats, a cassette player instead of a CD player, and an old-fashioned speedometer. So why did I mind so much now?

Landree had always been my best friend. Even though we came from two totally different worlds, you’d never know it from our friendship. Landree’s parents owned a new mini-mansion next to the golf course, with a swimming pool, while my parents owned a bi-level in an older neighborhood.

Landree had long auburn hair and a tall, slim figure, while I sported a short brown bob and a squatty muscular shape. She wore designer clothes and dated the quarterback of our football team, while my clothes hailed from the local department store, and I’d chosen not to date during high school.

Landree had traveled to other countries with her parents, while I could list on one hand the different states I’d been to. None of these differences mattered. Landree was down-to-earth and generous with everything she had. She was kindhearted and the keeper of my most secret secrets. Through all these years of friendship, she’d never let me down and had always been there for me. So, what was the problem?

I know what you’re thinking. Envy in any shape or form is wrong, right? All of the verses of the Bible that discuss envy and how it’s wrong went through my head, verses such Exodus 20:17, Proverbs 14:30 or Mark 7:21-23. I’d never struggled with this problem before; my faith had never been in worldly things, until now.

Nope, in the past, I’d had my eye only on the eternal prize. But as I mentioned before, Landree’s red sports car changed everything. That little green bug known as the envy bug had bitten me hard.

Another Twist
One day the worst thing happened. My car wouldn’t start. Yes, my beloved 1979 Ford Fairmont failed to transport me to any of my destinations, even school. Normally, my reliable parents could take me. On this day, however, that wasn’t the case. Dad was out of town for a meeting, and before Mom reached the end of our cul-de-sac, the tire on her minivan went flat.

Did I mention that Landree and her family were visiting friends in Europe? All of the rest of my friends arrived at school by bus, which transported only those who lived in rural areas. My only hope of arriving at school was by riding my bike, which I hadn’t ridden to school since I was in the eighth grade.

So there I was, in all my coolness on my purple bike at Lincoln High School when I met someone who changed my life. Her name was Annie.

Annie rode up on her bike about the same time I did. I’d never met her before, but Lincoln High School isn’t what you’d call a small school. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” I couldn’t help but notice that her bike had seen better days.

“I’ve never seen you here before at the bike rack. Are you new?” Annie’s smile was kind.

I laughed. “No,” I said. “I was born and raised in this town and have gone to Lincoln for the past two years. What about you?”

“I started attending last year when my family moved here. My dad died in a car accident, and we moved here, because my mom found a job at the café,” Annie told me.

I later found out that Annie’s mom struggled just to put food on their table. They also still owed a large amount of money to the hospital where her father had been admitted. Not only that, but Annie had two younger siblings and no relatives. I was impressed with her tone. She wasn’t complaining—just saying it like it was. She didn’t expect pity.

“I’m so thankful I have a bike to ride,” Annie told me the next day. “I can’t imagine walking all the way from the east side of town. What about you?”

Call me humbled.

I sat and stared at my new friend. All she had was a bike. No 1979 Ford Fairmont. And she wasn’t complaining. She was grateful.

I learned a lot from Annie. We became close friends, and my family was able to help her family. She even started going to youth group with me. Dad fixed my car, Landree returned from Europe and school was out for the summer. The three of us had a lot of fun and things were back to normal.

And the envy bug? I squished it under the toe of my flip-flop and prayed it would never bite me again.