1st Place Grand Prize:   "The Rooster"

"There's a rooster in my bedroom."   Those were the first words the person who was to become my best friend ever said to me. We were sitting at the table in the cramped, messy kitchen of the dorm room we shared. I had just moved in and spent most of my time in the stuffy closet the student brochure called "a private bedroom," brooding and studying and hiding from the raucous parties my peers were attending every other night. I had four new roommates, none of whom I could seem to start a conversation with. I smiled politely at them in the hall as I made my way to my room to write bad poetry. That was it. I had resigned myself to be that friendless, solitary girl everyone feels sorry for.

So when my roommate, Emily, nonchalantly informed me that there was a rooster in her room, I nearly spit out my Frosted Flakes. I was both thrilled that someone was talking to me, and a little nervous that this person might be certifiably insane. Nevertheless, when she asked me if I wanted to see the rooster, I enthusiastically agreed. She led me to her bedroom, where, sure enough, a large, majestic, and slightly angry-looking rooster was perched on her bed. Apparently she had taken a walk earlier, noticed it caught in some blackberry bushes, and, not having to heart to abandon it there, tucked it under her arm and toted it back to our dorm.

From that day on, Emily and I were the closest of friends. When we talked, I felt the greatest sense of relief and connection. Most of us go through life feeling that there are bad, shameful things inside of us, things that must be kept forever hidden. Emily was the most courageous person I'd ever met, in that she talked about these things. When you said, "How are you?" She never gave that reflexive, phony answer, "Fine." She would tell you if she was afraid, or tired, or depressed, or doubting herself. We tend to say we're honest when we don't lie to other people. But Emily was the epitome of honesty: she didn't lie to herself.

Before I met Emily, most of my friendships with other girls had consisted of shopping, talking about boys, and complaining about our looks. The emptiness and disconnect I felt with those friends did not exist with Emily. We talked about life, philosophy, religion, fear, hope. We spent most of our time together making each other tea, sitting on our stained orange sofa, and staring out the window at our campus, wondering aloud about why we were here, what we wanted, how we felt. To others, this might sound terribly boring. But of all the parties and clubs and malls I dragged myself to throughout my college life, the best times of those four years were the ones I spent with Emily, just talking about what mattered to us.

The day after I graduated, I moved to California to pursue my dream, and Emily stayed in Washington to pursue hers. Saying goodbye to her was extremely hard, but we have maintained our friendship despite the distance. We've seen each other through boyfriends, jobs, financial hardships; all the scary and unfamiliar things about emerging into adulthood. When Emily traveled to Ireland for six weeks recently, she told me about Anam Cara and what it means: "Soul friend." Nothing could better describe the bond between two friends who withhold from each other nothing and forgive each other everything, a bond which can't be eroded even with time and distance."

"Just Yesterday"

Wasn't it just yesterday that I first saw you? I was in the Army and you were walking into a small business in upstate New York. Wasn't it just yesterday that this couple we mutually knew set us up on a blind date? Wasn't it just yesterday that I asked you to be part of my life...to join me and be my wife...to go with me wherever life might take us and share in the adventure of whatever life might bring us? Wasn't it just yesterday that you said yes and became my wife?...to share in all that a marriage might have...to share the good, and the bad and the routine...to share the happiness and the heartbreaks that would come into our lives...to travel around the world wherever the Army would send us...to sit at home or to explore the byways and back roads that would surround us?

Was that yesterday? Time seems to have no meaning. Days pass and become years. Years pass so fast that one is barely aware of their fleeting presence. Now we are here to celebrate those years and the memories that they have brought to our hearts and our lives. Almost 25 years ago I asked you to marry me. Almost 25 years ago you said yes. Almost 25 years ago we set forth in love.

Now, almost a quarter century later we stand here with our friends to celebrate that joyous moment when we stood before a Justice of the Peace and promised to love each other. I now ask that you would continue to share in my love and life. To come with me for more of the adventures and heartbreaks that is part of life, but only bearable when you have a love to share them with. Would you still be my wife?

"A Concrete Christmas"

Why is he handing me a chunk of green concrete? I sighed, internally rolling my eyes. I had made it clear to Eric how important this Christmas was. He knew that I wanted him to really think it through and get me a meaningful gift. So why was I getting something that looked like a piece of extra quarry rubble? I had no clue. By now, we had been dating for nearly five years and had been engaged for seven months. In just over two months, I would walk down the aisle to meet him, and I sure hoped that the expression I would have on my face then would be more pleasant than the one I was wearing now. I tried to conceal my distaste. He was smiling at me expectantly, as if at this moment I should be exultant rather than exasperated, but I just didn’t understand. My gift for him had been sweet. Although we had never been intimate and wouldn’t be until we wed, it was a running joke between us that my underwear was cheap and falling apart. Occasionally, he would see a string of elastic poking out of my jeans, and he would comment that—-once he would be finally be allowed to see my undergarments—-he would see to it that I had something nicer to wear. And since that time was finally getting so near, I bought him several fun pairs that I would wear just for him after we married. He had loved it. Had laughed jovially. Had said he looked forward to the big day and couldn’t wait. And then had handed me a slab of concrete. And now he was still watching me, his sweet, confident eyes beginning to falter as the ecstatic reception that he had anticipated did not appear. After a while, I couldn’t hold a fake smile any longer without feeling deceptive. Thoroughly bamboozled, I looked him in the eyes. “Sweetie, I’m sure this is an awesome gift,” I said encouragingly. “But-—I don’t know what it is . . . could you give me a clue?” Seeming to have anticipated this request, he beamed. “Where did we meet?” he inquired. “The tennis courts,” I answered like a slow student being taken step by step through a difficult math problem. “And where are those tennis courts now?” he continued. “Torn up,” I answered sadly. The university was building new courts now; the ones where our white tennis shoes had skidded and squeaked were now gone forever. “Well, when they were tearing it up and they took a break from working on the site, I took a break from work. And I walked down to the courts and looked and looked until I found the best piece of what was left of where we had spend our first hours together. And this was the best, so I picked it up and saved it just for you. Turn it over,” he urged. By now I was beaming, too, as I flipped over the miniature slab. Love, it read. “Just like what we share and how you keep score it tennis,” he explained with a triumphant grin. “Oh, Eric!” I exclaimed, carefully placing the keepsake back into its gift box and flinging myself into his arms. “This is exactly what I wanted—and what I expected the very least! That night, green concrete found a new significance in my life; since then, Eric’s thoughtfulness and considerate actions have not failed. Needless to say, when I walked down the aisle to meet him two months later, no trace of a frown could be found in my face; no doubts could be found in my mind. My heart was not hard like the concrete that had brought us together; on the contrary, it was softer than a block of warm butter, and I was radiant. After all, five years of faithfulness, kindness, and a little concrete had convinced me that he was the one.

"Deb, Did You See That?"

“Deb, did you see that?” Tired and aggravated I once again, drop what I’m doing and go running into the den to see what Jimmy is watching on TV. I’ve told him a thousand times, I’m busy cooking dinner and I can’t see through walls. But, now days I think about how close I came to losing him just three years ago, and to put aside what I’m doing doesn’t seem like such a big deal. The fact that he’s here to call my name is precious. Jimmy was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis seven years ago, and the medications led to a heart-attack. Then later a defibrillator was installed. Along came a hernia and other medical issues. Each new problem created a need for a new medication, that sometimes makes him feel really bad. I’ve learned to overlook the little things that use to irritate me, and I’m sure there’s a list of things he overlooks about me. I’ll back up a few years and tell my Anam Cara story.

Jimmy and I were married fifteen years ago, and the odds were definitely against us. Even though we were madly in love, we dealt with ex-spouses, getting adjusted to step-children, both of us were very independent, and we had a lot of financial problems. To say the least, it was tough combining two homes. But, love is a commitment, and marriage puts commitment to the test. Jimmy once told me, when two souls touch, their hearts become one, and we are one. He’s right! We were friends before dating, and now we’re very best friends. Over the years we’ve learned to appreciate each other. Family and friends are happy for us, and most people want a relationship like we have. He taught me values of how to appreciate little things in life. He’s a romantic, he’s sensitive, and patient, and such a gentleman, and he makes me laugh. He can be stubborn, and he does have a temper when pushed too far. (I know the limits.) We think alike and know the meaning of each other’s expressions. We tell each other secrets and can talk about anything. We’re there to comfort each other and laugh and cry together. He makes me feel good about myself and we have a great intimate relationship. But, on the other hand, he understands when I need time alone. We’re not big on public display of affection, or PDA as the kids call it today, but he’s proud to walk beside me and hold my hand or kiss me in a crowded restaurant. I cry when he tells the stories of when he was a little boy. I quietly giggle in the middle of the night when he comes to bed, and the whole time he’s trying to straighten the mess I’ve made of the covers, he’s telling me I could sleep in a pile of rags. My heart melted on Valentine’s day when I came home to dinner on the table, and he met me at the door with a glass of wine. Knowing grocery shopping is not my favorite thing, he doesn’t mind going. Sometimes he surprises me by fixing dinner. We share memories of family weddings, and births, and funerals. We’re there for each other. This is the man I have a true love and passion for. When he’s in pain, I see it in his eyes and on his face. The man that insists I do the eulogy at his funeral someday, because I know him better than anyone. There are no doubts in my mind, if anything happens to Jimmy before me, I would never date or remarry, because nobody would ever meet up to how I feel about Jimmy. How precious those words are. “Deb, did you see that?” 

His Story:  I had never thought that my “dream woman” would ever come to me.  I was certain I would have to compromise if I was to marry.  My history was less than splendid with women, and I had little hope left.  I had noticed her before, but never in a million years thought that she would be interested in me of all men.  She seemed so elegant and graceful, as she played viola at reenactments, and there was no chance she would ever have feelings for me.  She was one of those women that you think about all day and wish you could say “I love you” to, but knew that the chances of that happening were slim.  I also thought that there was no chance she was a Proverbs 31:10-31 type of woman, or even a Christian for that matter.  Someone of such talent usually tends to be self-sufficient.  One day, I received a message from her, proving it all wrong…

The Rest of the Story:  What began with an innocent “Hello,” has grown into something beyond our wildest dreams.  As we correspond, we have found out how much we really do have in common, and a bond has formed.  The more we talk, the stronger the bond becomes, and, despite the miles between us, we know, as one knows that Sunlight will banish the darkness, that we have found our soul mate, our Anam Cara.

"A Movie Perfect Romance"

So here was my situation. My heart had just been completely shattered when my boyfriend for a year suddenly broke-up with me, and I had immediately jumped into a relationship with a guy that couldn't have been any more wrong for me. I was completely miserable. I took on more hours at work to keep myself distracted. So it was late May, and I had been dating "Mr. Wrong" for about a month now. I was working with a friend of mine, who had some friends stopping by later to take her to get something to eat on her break. I was in the back of the store, putting away movies, when I heard her greeting her friends. I turn around to see them, and there he was. This adorable blonde haired, blue-eyed guy that had the most amazing smile that could instantly make you smile, just because he was smiling. So I walked up to them, she introduced us, and I said the most intelligent, witty thing that I could think of at the moment..."Hi."  Since my friend was stuck behind the register, they decided to walk around while they waited for her to go on break. They headed for the game section, and I just happened to have some very important games that needed to be put away at that exact moment. So I walked over and asked them if I could help them find anything. He said no, but kept talking to me anyway. We only talked for a little while, but I was already head-over-heels for him. "I already have a boyfriend", I told myself, so I left it alone. He obviously felt something too, because the next thing I know, he's calling me telling me that he got my number through my friend. We would talk for hours, and then when one of us had to go, we'd call later and talk for hours again. It didn't seem real. What could I have done to deserve a guy that was so completely perfect for me in every way? At this point, I knew that I already cared a lot about him, but I still had a boyfriend, and I really liked this guy, but I was dating this other guy, which basically equaled a lot of confusion. So I call my boyfriend to talk about it, and some how we got on the topic of my parents hating him (which didn't help any) and he started getting angry, and I started getting upset, so we decided to end it. Was I hurt? A little. Was I completely thrilled because now I could date Shane? Absolutely. As it turned out, my friend was going on a date with one of our friends the next day, their first date, and wanted me to go. I told her that I didn't want to be a third wheel, so she invited Shane. I was so unbelievably nervous. The whole date was basically me and Shane flirting relentlessly, and my friends being the nervous ones. After we ate, we decided to go to the park. Shane and I headed back to the car early. So there we were, the sun setting, both of us leaning against my friend's car, and he turns to me, looks me in the eyes, and tells me that I the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful girl he's ever met, and asks me if I would go out to dinner with him sometime. I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered "maybe."  He looked completely defeated, so I laughed and said "of course!" He smiled that adorable smile and wrapped his arms around me.

A note from the editor:

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