Aisle of Love

         I closed my eyes to breathe in the scent of roses, baked bread, and roasting meat.  Surrounded by the noise and chatter of others, I heard only his voice.  I opened my eyes and saw only him--reaching out, offering a card.

         "For you, Honey."

         It was the most beautiful Valentine I had ever seen.  Clutching it to my breast, a minute passed before I could break his loving gaze and examine this special gift.  On the front, a flocked heart pierced with a silver arrow invited my fingers to touch.  Inside, a verse so lovely, so personal, I blinked back tears of joy.

         I thought about the one I had chosen and suddenly felt inadequate.  Although much more expensive, it was nothing like this.  Would it truly convey my love?  Could any earthly object impart so much?  I held it toward him with trembling hand.

         "For you, Sweetheart."

         He smiled at the words on the cover and read them aloud.  "That's nice."

         The card had a manly theme.  I wanted something that reflected his exceptional strength and noble character with a verse that spoke, not only my love, but my pride in being part of his life.  He opened it, obviously touched by my careful selection.  Tiny electronics played a tune; the same song we had danced to on our first date, twenty-seven years ago.

         Before looking up, he turned it over to check the price which made both of us burst out laughing.  It was one of his little quirks--one unique trait that binds us.

         That special day was nearly at an end.  Returning our gifts to the proper slots on the Hallmark rack, we left Wal-Mart and walked hand-in-hand to our truck.

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