wear my rose

     I've never had a single doubt about my parents' deep love for each other. Until the end of his life, Dad treated my mother like a queen. Now that I am reading through some of the old letters (no I haven't ventured much into their ribbon-wrapped love letters) I can see again how sweet their romance was. Mom once told me the story of their engagement. They became sweethearts while attending the same college. When it came time to "pop the question," Dad did so but requested that my mother wait a week to think and pray about her answer. My guess is she was ready to say "yes" right then, but she waited, and she said it seemed like the week lasted forever. Towards the end of that week Dad sent her some roses with a note that said, "Wear my rose to the dining hall tonight if your answer is yes." With stars in her eyes, she pinned the rose on to her blouse. I wonder if they had much of an appetite for dinner that night in the excitement of the promise of a life together.
     Later that night, as the custom still is at that college when a couple gets engaged, they climbed the tower stairs and rang the bell, proclaiming their news to the whole campus.