If you’re like me you love a love story, especially if it’s true. And very often it’s not the big things but the little things that make an impact. Today I’m sharing my friend’Jennifer Fromke’s story from the new anthology, Heart Bouquets. I hope you enjoy it and remember to create those little moments with your special someone.
Newlyweds. One in grad school, one working a job that barely paid the rent. Saturday night entertainment consisted of walking around the mall and window shopping. Minnesota is cold in the winter, people.
That first Valentine’s Day sneaked up on us. Generally speaking, we didn’t spend money on anything unrelated to food and shelter. But we planned to splurge and go out to dinner and we decided to buy something “small” for each other.
Autumn had delivered a strenuous adjustment period for both of us. I joined the workforce for the first time (straight out of college) in a new city and new state. We were still learning how to be married. My hubby entered medical school in the fall and learned it’s an entirely different ball game from college. And for the first time in our lives, we were paying all the bills ourselves.
The only thing I really remember about our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple is the gift my husband gave me. It was a spoon rest in the shape of a carrot. Wow. RO. MAN. TIC. I know that’s what you’re thinking.
But this gift is pretty much, my favorite gift of all time aside from the ring my husband gave me when he proposed. You see, as a girl setting up house for the first time, feeling a little homesick, and feeling the pinch of a very small income and the weight of responsibility from being the only breadwinner, I was a little stressed. And I wanted desperately to make our little condo feel like home.
Home centered around the kitchen and I loved cooking. The large gaping hole amidst all the lovely wedding gifts we received–to me–was a spoon rest. My mom owned several. At home there was always a place to gently rest the ladle or spoon with which I was cooking. And every time I cooked in my new little kitchen, I would lift the spoon from my cooking pot and look around . . . but nary a spoon rest was in sight!
I know, it’s little over-dramatic. I only mentioned it one time to by husband. But weeks later, he gave me one. Not only had he LISTENED to me. He ACTED on what he heard. He met my FELT need. Sigh.
It may seem silly to almost anyone else, but it was the most romantic gift he could have given me that year. He listened to me. Remembered what I’d said. And met the longing of my heart. The spoon rest was not the point. I needed to be heard and loved. And I was. And I still am, exactly twenty years later.