A Love Story

They first meet in a library. She’s holding poetry, Him science fiction. 

She’s wearing confidence, humbly in a fitted white dress. Her hair frames her deep brown eyes, which are what first catches his eye. 

A week later they walk through the garden grounds, talking about the things you talk about on first dates. She laughs and he is caught by the warmth of her smile. The feeling is contagious, as his smile appears effortlessly when he’s with her.

He goes home and tells his mother that he’s met the girl he’ll marry. She’ll laugh and say he’s only 18, how could he know. 

But he knows. 

They date for a few years. It isn’t perfect, but their time is theirs alone. They take trips, they adopt a dog, they thrive in their passions, they create memories. 

He takes her atop a mountain, with views only described as paradise, and asks for her heart, her hand as his wife. With tears on her cheeks she says, 

“Absolutely! Yes!”

They marry on a warm day in May, her mom cries tears of love and joy for her daughter. Her dad struggles to hold back his tears as he holds his little girl on the dance floor, the same as the day she was born.

They are God fearing. Their marriage is strong through the storms of life. They move mountains for one another. 

They raise children in a home that they create together. A home where they break bread as a family and speak life into one another.

They grow up and grow old alongside each other. They share new graces every day. Their children will tell the story of the epic romance that they had. 

What a beautiful love.

I should have told you this is not my love story,

but the one that I pray for my daughter.

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in this series "280 Words".