Express

I'm not one that believes fairy tales are to blame for women's unrealistic expectations of romance. I'm not even sure it is lead by pop culture. Rather, it may be that those things are driven by some biological/physiological quest for endorphins. Maybe the need to feel good precedes the expectations. Either way, I have been disappointed when He failed at romantic gestures. It was usually tied to a major event: birthday, anniversary, valentines day etc. My hopes would be high- and then the ordinary. Not that He completely failed; there were flowers, or chocolates, or dinner etc. These are all very appreciated because they show thought and effort. He has, however, surprised me.

I had the flu. The real flu. I was sick, sick, sick. It was winter. Not the pretty December winter with new white snow, but the tail end of January winter that is dingy and bleak. It was Saturday morning and I had been in bed for days. I was just beginning to feel like I was rejoining the living when He came into the bedroom that afternoon and went to the bedroom window. Fresh snow had fallen in the night and the sun had popped out of the dismal sky. He called me over to the window to see how pretty it was. In the pasture behind our yard He had written in the snow "I Love You" in 6' tall letters. I smiled, inside and out. I imagined Him trudging through the shin deep snow, hopping to begin the next letter so as not to make a mark where it shouldn't be.

It was romantic because it was so unexpected. It didn't cost anything, but it took some thought and effort. Isn't this what a "grand" gesture is, unexpected, surprising, and out of the ordinary? It was a very simple thing to do, and yet it made me feel loved. Truly loved. Because of it I began to notice small, previously unrecognized gestures of love. Big, expensive, and contrived can be great and I like that too, but if I had to choose between the two I would choose the simple, unassuming expression of love. Even though it was covered up by new snow, trampled, and then melted, I can still see it every time I look out the window. That is my fairy tale.

He wrote...

...one more reason I love Him.