No one plans on falling in love. Well, unless they sign up for dating sites. And even then, plans are sketchy.
But the easiest way to fall in love is to not be expecting it to happen and then it just does.
My child just thought he was going to attend Vacation Bible School.
He had no idea he was going to be love struck.
“Mama,” he began. “What did you think about that little boy that liked you when you were younger?”
“I thought he was sweet, why?”
A few minutes passed. “Did you think he was weird for liking you?”
My answer was no, but when I was four, I wasn’t worried about boys. My focus was reading, coloring, naps, and an afternoon Hostess cupcake.
Not a lot has changed in nearly 40 years.
As I pondered the first boy who ever liked me, Cole went to his room, obviously preoccupied by my kindergarten romance.
When he emerged, he asked for an envelope.
Curious, I asked why he needed one.
“I’ll tell you later.”
I heard him tearing the envelopes up, frustrated.
A few moments passed before my child stood before me, a piece of paper folded up tightly into a neat little square.
“I don’t even know her name,” he said quietly.
“This beautiful girl I met tonight,” he said. “She has long, dark hair and blue eyes. Did you see her?”
There were a dozen children there, I am sure I saw her but was not sure which girl he was talking about.
“I have no idea what her name is, though…” his voice trailed off as he held the square.
“Is that for her?” I asked.
He nodded. “I wrote her a letter. Do you want to read it?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” I said.
He nodded. “I want you to.”
But instead, he read it to me. “I like you and think you are really neat. You probably don’t feel the same way, but maybe one day you will.”
The pureness of his words. The hope he put in it. He was a pure romantic through and through and I am not sure where he got it from other than his own abashed love of love.
The courage it took for my shy, yet charming little boy to write such words. If I had his courage to take risks, there’s no telling what I could do, would have done.
But the fear of my child being hurt, being rejected made my heart catch.
“Maybe you shouldn’t give it to her,” I cautioned.
“Oh, no,” he said. “I am giving it to her on the last night. I have to give it to her.”
The next night, he told me her name.
“And, she’s a little bit older than me,” he added. “But that’s okay.”
“How old is she?” I asked.
“13, going on 14,” he replied.
I didn’t say anything. That’s a good deal older, I thought, and girls are usually so much more mature than boys.
Cole is mature for his age – for the most part, or until someone tells a joke involving a bodily function – but still.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, as if he had read my mind. “And Daddy’s a lot older than you – almost 10 years older – so I don’t see what the big deal would be.”
“I didn’t say anything, baby,” I said. “Daddy is older, but we were grown when we met; it would have been…creepy and illegal…if he had tried to date me when I was 10 and he was 19.”
I had burst his love bubble unintentionally. I didn’t want him to be hurt and I had been the one to hurt him.
I could tell later he was upset over this revelation and the fact this beautiful girl was a considerable bit older than him.
“I was hoping she wouldn’t be that much older,” he admitted.
“I know,” I said. “But she could be in college when you are starting high school.”
He dropped his little chin and said, “I could go visit her and take her snacks, though.”
I squeezed him tight.
His heart, of course, was all about how to do something for someone else.
“But you aren’t going to give her the letter, are you?” I asked.
“I am, Mama,” he said. “I don’t care how old she is. It doesn’t change how I feel. The heart wants, what the heart wants.”
The week went by quickly, and on Friday, Cole forgot the letter.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I can tell her, though,” he said. “Maybe that’s better.”
A small miracle happened. I kept my mouth shut. If my child had the gumption to tell a much older teenage girl he thought she was the neatest thing ever, I wasn’t going to stop him. I would, however, be there to comfort him and give him hot buttered popcorn with peanut M&M’s in it to soothe him. I decided, for once, to not meddle and hover, but let my child have some autonomy in his life.
Later that evening, I anxiously asked him how things went.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said. “I got too shy. I still have the letter, and I will see her again; I mean, we go to church together, you know?”
I smiled my understanding.
“And, besides, she will have plenty of time to get to know me and see how a few years won’t mean anything in love. I just think she is nice, she is pretty, and funny and sweet. She hasn’t got to know me yet, really.”
“By then, you may have just become really good friends, too,” I interjected. “And found someone more your age…”
“Oh, I don’t think so, sweet girl,” he said. “‘Cause the heart wants what the heart wants.”
Sudie Crouch is an award winning humor columnist and author of the e-published novel, “The Dahlman Files: A Tony Dahlman Paranormal Mystery.”