In the summer of 2008, I worked for Tagge's Famous Fruit, managing fruit stands all over Salt Lake City. One day I was at the Sugarhouse location, very near the park. It was an ordinary day--hot, kind of boring, and loud with all the cars on the busy road right in front of the stand. I'd been left mostly alone for the majority of the day, but then a bus stopped just down the road.
A stooped, elderly couple disembarked and slowly shuffled, arm-in-arm, down the road. When they passed the fruit stand, the husband caught sight of my spread of fruit and motioned to his wife. The two of them came over and took refuge from the sun under my canopy. The woman didn't say anything the whole time they were there.
The husband smiled at his wife and pointed to a container of raspberries. "Look, they have raspberries," he said. "Would you like to take some of these to the park for a treat?" She nodded and smiled up at him with radiant blue eyes behind wiry spectacles, and he bought a pack of raspberries for them to share.
After I wrapped up their purchase, they both gave me wrinkly smiles, then continued down the road, arm-in-arm, and went to the park. Our encounter was short, and I never saw them again, but I can't forget the sight of them walking to the park together, with a pack of raspberries to share on a sunny summer's day. I'm guessing they were nearly eighty years old, and surely they had been married for some time, but they still found days like that day to go on an outing together.
I don't really know how to explain it eloquently enough, but even right now, six years later, I'm tearing up as I type about this. There are so many other instances I can think of that touch my heart, but that one sticks with me. Even though she didn't say a word, I could feel the love that old woman had for her husband. She appreciated that little gesture so much. The husband loved her so much--buying her a treat and spending quality time with her.
And... it's a good thing I'm alone right now because I'm legitimately crying. Gosh dang it, I always get so emotional on Valentine's Day.
I'm hardly ever unaware that I'm 24 and still very much single, but on Valentine's Day it's always 100x worse. It's like a nation-wide anniversary that everyone is expected to celebrate. Except, when you're like me, it's like "National Point-Out-That-You-Have-No-Boyfriend Day."
But as much as it hurts, I don't want to dwell on that. Instead, let me just say that I'm really excited for the day when I do have someone to celebrate Valentine's Day with.
For now, I accept the fact that I still have a lot of growing to do before I'm ready for the blessing of marriage. Because I really believe that it is a blessing. I've seen how happy my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends are in their marriages. I'm so grateful for the good examples of selfless love I've seen throughout my life.
I've yearned for an eternal companion who won't move away--who will be there with me through thick and thin. I want to grow old with somebody. I want a marriage that lasts forever. The world keeps telling me that that's an unrealistic expectation, but to that I say, "I don't care what's unrealistic. If that elderly, happily-married couple in Sugarhouse is just part of a fairytale, then so be it. I expect a fairy tale."
And when the day comes that I find Mr. Right, you can bet that I'll be sending a heartfelt "thank you" to our Heavenly Father for the honor.
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