I met a girl in a coffee shop.

I met a girl in a coffee shop.

Shy. Letting her sister do all the talking.

She never even remembered me.

I remembered a mass of flaming ginger hair.

She was ten years younger anyway.

The girls and a brother came to our poetry group.

Still shy. She quietly read her poems.

We all read our poems round and round the circle.

Poems are our past sins, present pain, and future hopes. 

We friends heard heartsongs some lovers never do.

The siblings and I would hang out after each poetry group.

Not so shy. She spoke up and joined the conversation.

We spoke of wars, and treks, and rings and heroes, occasionally reality.

One summer, she and I were the group, as her sister married.

Too much stigma to say 'just friends', mere acquaintances then.

A little braver. She started coming to my church, meeting my friends.

To hang out after church, I needed to give her rides home.

 Was it mom's pie, or her that made me stay so late each Sunday night?

Confident. She moved into town and the home of  'sister' from the church.

Everywhere that Esther went Mark was sure to go.

Trips to see sister and nephews were fine wine of time spent well.

We were like an old married couple, but 'never dated'.

Bold now. "Am I your girlfriend or not?"

Two days before my birthday. Best birthday yet.

No money. No career. No clue. No problem--she loves me!

Finally she said, "Here's the ring I want. Propose when you're ready."

I did. I was. We married.

Two days before my birthday. Best birthday EVER!

A carefully laid foundation makes a home that will last.