Not every match is made in heaven, but this one was. Annabelle and Xavier had met at a table tennis competition in town. It had been organised by the Trinity Anglican Parish. It was when Annabelle had beaten (just the once) Xavier at ping pong that Xavier thought Annabelle worth looking at twice.
“How would you like to go out next Saturday?” asked Xavier. That was the beginning. The sun came out from the clouds and never left.
Today Annabelle was off to see Xavier. He had something to tell her; something very important; something very special. Annabelle knew it would be a marriage proposal. She would pretend to be surprised, but really… really… how could she not guess? She wasn’t born yesterday.
Annabelle took the shortcut to Xavier’s place: over a stile, through a cornfield, over another stile… The colours that day were ten times more vibrant. A flock of goldfinches were stealing corn. “You little thieves!” laughed Annabelle. She heard a skylark sing, way up in the sky. “It’s the wedding march!” laughed Annabelle.
And there he was! Xavier at the second stile! Down on one knee!
“Annabelle,” said Xavier, “will you marry me?”
“Oh yes!” said Annabelle. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and a second skylark joined the singing in the sky. The moon rose in the middle of the day. A briar rose near the stile burst into flower. A rooster crowed. A cherry tree scattered ripe and succulent fruit.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
(Post script: If you don’t like happy endings you should know by now not to read this blog.)