On Feburay 12th, 2005, I recieved my first rose from Mark.
It was at the Blessing dinner our former synagouge held.
Mark had been wrestling between his love for me and what others thought about our relationship, whether or not to listen to his heart,
Finally, when he stood to share how he felt about me, the words of love just flowed out; he asked me to marry me. And he was only person in the room that didn't realize what he had done.
He brought me home, kissed me on the forehead and headed home. He was still in school and had finals that week. I placed my rose in a vase, called my mother to tell her the news and then went to bed.
A few days later, my mother suggested I press the rose in our family bible.
That was six years ago.
The Bible's binding is now broked and I have to have it fixed, but I still have the rose. Yes, it is pressed and dry, has to be handled carefully, but it reminds me of the night Mark not only listened to his heart, but placed it in my hand.