h3. Sunday, November 18th
h4. Ken
Sunday kicks off our story with the preparations for the big day. Over the previous two weeks, I spent my time purchasing the ring, telling Sarah’s parents, telling my parents, and lots of other planning. So, after a late night of getting home from my Dad’s on Saturday and pulling together some last minute details, I slept in nice and late on Sunday. My plan was to get over to “Cedarville”:http://www.cedarville.edu/, OH at around 10 PM or so, which put me leaving New Jersey at around 1 o’clock. I woke up at around 11:30 AM, needing to pack up some clothing and Darin’s guitar. One other thing I wanted to have done before I left, though, was to call one of Sarah’s roommates to let them know I was coming. As it was, everyone was on a need-to-know basis, and I had kept the fact that I was going out to Ohio to propose that weekend in a very tight circle of people. Even the people at whose house I was staying didn’t know why I was going out to Ohio until that Sunday afternoon!
So, I call Sarah’s house, hoping to get one of her roommates while she was at church. As it turned out, Sarah cut to work on a paper for school! I covered it, telling Sarah that I was calling to tell her that she’s a jazzy lady–which she is. But, as soon as the opportunity arose to catch the ear of her roommate Jen, I asked Sarah to put her on. My excuse? I wanted to tell her that she’s a rock star, of course. 
Once Jen got on the phone, I told her what I was planning and asked her to let me into their house late that night so I could plant my surprise for Sarah. She told me that, one way or another, she would have the door open for me. She put Sarah back on, and I quickly dodged any questions that Sarah might have asked. We said our goodbyes, and I grabbed my stuff and packed it into the car.
h4. Sarah
Actually, on Sunday, I was pretty clueless: just the way Ken wanted me to be. I was stressing over a huge paper I had due the following week. So when Ken called me that morning from the road) I didn’t even think twice about it. It isn’t extremely unusual for him to oversleep church. When he wanted to talk to Jen, I thought something might be up. And when she glanced at me and left the room to talk to him, I definitely knew he was scheming. But I didn’t know about what, and for some reason, the synapses in my brain didn’t process what it could be. I think the paper, plus the fact that I was due home in a few days allowed me to pass it off and not dwell on it. Maybe God had a hand in that too…:)
h3. The Ring
The story behind the ring is actually pretty funny. Sarah had actually designed the picture of the ring by hand, which took a lot of the guesswork out of shopping for her. Back in March, Sarah had been shopping around looking for various wedding items. While looking around the internet between classes, she created this ring while looking at diamond.com. Jen Poley happened to be on the instant messenger while Sarah was designing the ring, so she sent the picture to Jen.
About an hour later, Jen called me at work. “Ken Walker,” she says with her own inimitable sly voice, “I have something for you.” After somewhat of a hard time (what? Jen? hard time?–never), she emailed me the picture. I kept it for six months before I was ready to buy the ring.
The whole time, I had always believed that Sarah might have masterminded the transfer: something along the lines of “I’ll send this to Jen, and she’ll send this to Ken for me.” Finally after I had given Sarah the ring, I asked her if she recognized it. She said that she didn’t, and I reminded her of this picture. Ever since that day in March, she’d totally forgotten about the picture. As it turns out, she had just sent it to Jen on a whim, not realizing that it would make its way to me at all!
The Ride
Ken
Aaaaah…the pleasures of cross country driving. The ride to Cedarville from Morris Plains is about 9 hours–600 miles. Sounds nuts, but it’s actually a lot of fun sometimes, especially when you’re about to get engaged! I was moving along at a pretty good clip in order to get out to Ohio in time to get what I needed to accomplish finished. The ride was largely uneventful, although my fast food intake rose sharply. The Honda performed faithfully, which is excellent, because as I write this my car sits in an office parking lot out on route 46 East, having broken down after a night at Starbucks with my friend Jode.
One thing I was concerned about, though, was that I had to call Sarah at about 4pm, which is our usual Sunday routine. However, I had neglected to charge my cell phone the night before and I was stuck calling Sarah with only half of my battery life. As it was, I was driving through the Western (read, Amish) part of Pennsylvania at this point, too, so my reception was awful. But, I called her and hoped to be able to hold her off until later that night.
As it turned out, she was so stressed about the amount of work she had left on her paper, that she really didn’t suspect that anything was up. I told her that I was just “driving around,” having gotten a cup of coffee–which was mostly true, because I was driving and I did get a cup of coffee. 
I told her that my cell phone was low, and she needed to get her paper done so she wouldn’t have to stress about it anymore, and promised that I would talk to her for a nice, long time when we see each other again on Tuesday night. She assented to that, and we hung up.
I arrived at Cedarville at around 9:30pm, and started the preparations…
h4. Sarah
When Ken called me that afternoon, I was doubly stressed because I had spent the whole day studying and didn’t seem to be getting anywhere (can I hear an Amen from the college students in the house?). So again, I wasn’t really suspicious that he was on the road, and I thought that he was being considerate by letting me go and promising me a nice long chat the next time we talked. Little did I know how soon that would be.
h3. The Preparations
h4. Ken
My desire on that weekend was not only to give Sarah Posegate a ring–anyone could get anyone else a ring, even an expensive one, and have it not be a big deal. But, I remember earlier in the semester when I was hanging out with my good friends Darin, Krissy, and Ralph. We were chilling out in the study lounge after an InterVarsity Bible study and Ralph poses the question: “Krissy, how did Darin propose to you?”–and Darin and Krissy spent the better part of an hour telling the story. Then it dawns on me: that’s what Sarah wants. She wants to be asked “How did Ken propose to you?” and go on for the better part of an hour retelling it over again. She wants to be able to tell a story that she can tell and still leave stuff out, rather than these engagement stories that you can tell in less time than it takes to finish a tic-tac.
So, that was the goal: give Sarah the ring, but give her a story to tell, too. In doing so, I made plans to totally surprise her by coming out on her last full day of school before a holiday weekend. I also wanted to lead her to me by leaving a number of clues around campus for her to find.
h3. The Rock
h4. Ken
When I rolled into Cedarville at 9:30pm, I wanted to first make sure that I knew exactly where Sarah was. I knew that she had a couple of prayer meetings at the school that night, and I needed to get on campus. So, I parked my car in the back parking lot of the Baptist church and walked the two blocks back to Sarah’s house, feeling very much like Tom Cruise or Pierce Brosnan, or Jim Carrey…or something.
Anyway, I made like Mission Impossible and did a surveillance walk past the house–I dunno, maybe I spent too much time living with Bryan Hunter (just kidding Bryan!). Sure enough, the mighty “White Llama” was in the driveway, and I knew that I could make it over to the campus without being seen. I headed back to the car and drove it to the campus, parked, and headed over to the Rock.
The Rock is a billboard for Cedarville’s more expressive student population. It was moved next to Cedar Lake once the new Student Center was built at the North end of campus. Sarah had once painted a little surprise for me at this rock, and I thought it would be cute to return the hint. So, with purple and green fluorescent paint (courtesy of our friends at the Home Depot), I strode across the campus to emblaze my affection for my Posegate for all the world (well, all 2,847 of the world that goes to Cedarville and the 10% of them that would actually walk past the rock).
As I busily applied my latex message of love, a few Cedarville girls passed and cooed “awwwwwwww.” I smiled–Sarah was going to dig this.
h3. The Magnet Poem
h4. Ken
The next clue was the magnet poem. Well, actually it was the first clue that Sarah was going to see. She has this magnet poetry on her refrigerator that her brother purchased for her from the Museum company. It’s just this box of magnetic words that you’re supposed to attach to a metal surface (refrigerator, cubicle wall, bathroom stall) that you can later arrange into sentences and poems. About a week and a half before I left for Ohio, I went to the Rockaway Museum Store to purchase my own box and went to my sister Jaime’s apartment to write the poem. After about two hours of sitting with these tiny, little words and two big sheets of metal that I’d pulled off the sides of her computer trying to arrange my first-ever love poem.
Once I’d finished painting the rock, I threw the cans away and hopped back in the car to head over to Sarah’s house. And, as before, I parked about a block away and hoofed it over to the house. It was around 11pm at this point, and I was hoping that Sarah was getting ready for bed or already asleep. When I got to the house, though, her bedroom light was still on. The rest of the lights in the house were off, so I took a walk around the house to check to see if anyone else was up.
Now, at this point, I was keenly aware of the fact that I was skulking around in the dark, spying on a house three blocks from campus that housed six college-age girls with a camera underneath my jacket! I thought for sure that if a cop had caught me that I was going to be prosecuted. And, besides, what was I going to say? “No, officer, I’m just going to surprise my girlfriend! Look in my pocket! There’s some magnet poetry in there! I wrote her a poem!”
I was still wary about entering the house even though there was seemingly no one inside. I was feeling a little hungry, too, so I walked back to the car and drove to the gas station to get some sandwiches and a soda.
When I got back to the house, I parked across the street and around the corner–good enough to keep watch on that lit window, but wide out in the open, should anyone look outside. I gnawed on my sandwich and watched with tensed nerves, dwindling patience, and drooping eyelids as the light…just…stayed…on.
After about fifteen minutes, I couldn’t take it any longer: I opened the my car door and, with swelling confidence, approached the front door of the house. The door had creaked considerably, but I didn’t hear any response from inside. The lights were still out, so I shut the door behind me and crept in. I crossed the living room and put the camera and magnets on the counter. That’s just when I heard someone come down the hall.
I spun around and frantically searched the room with my eyes to find a place to hide as the footsteps grew closer. Of course, there wasn’t any. I winced and waited for her to come around the corner expecting a scream, or a gasp of surprise, or something that would blow the whole thing wide open.
It was Sarah’s roommate Amy. She gasped but, faithfully and thankfully, stifled a response. “Hi,” I said. Amy greeted me and asked me how my drive was and how long I’d been there–apparently, Jen had told her I was coming. We talked for a while and I went back to my poem, which, when finished, looked like this:
boy watches girl
a gorgeous vision of beauty
my crush
the bittersweet drive
the ache
always having to say
not yet
the road of time
here at the moment
two friends—one Rock
His will—our love
my delicate rose
lets sing and cry
and soar through eternity
as we worship together
Amy had told me that Sarah had gone to sleep, but I was conscious of the voices that were coming from the hall. I finished my work, snapped a couple of photos and booked it out of there.
Amy had asked me to lock the door, so I locked the handle before I pulled the door shut. It took two tries to close it, and made quite a racket. As soon as I got it shut, I walked swiftly over to the corner and hid in the darkness, waiting for the heat to blow over.
Just then, the lights began to come on in the house.
h3. Burglars?
h4. Ken
I hid in the dark for a short while until I decided that it was probably safe to move again. When I did, I made sure to cross behind the house and come out by the neighbor’s. I crossed the street and climbed back into my car again. As I sat down, though, I noticed that someone was opening the curtains in the living room and looking out. I paused with bated breath, trying desperately to tell if it was Sarah. Whoever it was closed the curtain and went into the kitchen, so I started my car and drove away–headlights off, of course.
I drove back to the Longs’ house, turning the situation over in my head. I finally decided that if it had been Sarah looking out the window that all was not lost: even if she knew that I was in town, she still had no idea when or how I was going to propose to her. I arrived at the Longs’ house, ate some cookies (thanks Barb!), and did a little reading before getting a few hours’ worth of sleep.
h4. Sarah
Sunday night came after a weekend of work for me, so I was just spending some chill time with my housemates. When the phone rang around 11:30, Rachel accidentally picked up the phone after Amy had answered it, so she heard the tail end of a conversation with Jen, who was asking that the front door be left open.
We were chatting in my room for a while, and had good intentions about going to sleep early, but we just kept coming up with better and better conversation topics. So when we heard the door, we just kept on talking, assuming that it was Jen, home from work. A couple of minutes later, Rachel glances down the hallway and it clicks with her: Jen isn’t here, and the rest of the house is, so who was at the door? All of us had heard the door, so we immediately get nervous and head out to check on it.
The door is not only closed, but it is locked, and our other housemates are asleep. So of course we think the worst: Some psychopath killer is loose in our house. Arming ourselves with the golf club that we had been given after a previous psychopath encounter (ask me about that one later), we head out to search the house. Adrenaline ran high as we checked in the laundry cubby, the our glassed-in porch and the garage. Still noone! As we crept into the kitchen, additionally armed with a 2 foot long frozen sausage from the freezer in the garage, we were pretty edgy. I admit that I squealed a little out of shock when I saw the poem on the fridge. However, I then calmly read it and breathed a sigh of relief. For me, the mystery was over. It was apparent that some guy from Harriman (the house where most of our boyfriends were) had gotten in to leave a love poem on our fridge.
We discussed the event at length, trying to figure out what had really happened. What I didn’t know was that as we had been creeping around the house, Amy (remember the one who had answered the phone earlier?) had been pulling people aside, one by one, to tell them that it was OK, and that it had been Ken who had come in to leave the poem on the fridge. So at this point, I was the only oblivious one. They all put on a good show talking it through, though. We listed the guys who had done it, ruled out the ones who probably couldn’t have (i.e., Ken in NJ) and decided that either Scott or Trent must have done it. Rachel briefly brought up the phone conversation and the door having to be left open for Jen, but Amy blatantly lied about it. I was, again, oblivious. So we locked the doors, and I went to bed with the golf club.
The Longs Rule
Ken
Once, I’d made the 40 minute trip over from Sarah’s house to the Longs’ house, I was ready to crash–9 hours of driving and all of the night’s excitement had just about worn me out. I crashed through the door of the townhouse with my clothes, laptop, camera, and Darin’s guitar all hanging from me. I set them down in the living room and saw a note from Jeff and Barb. They both expressed how excited they were for Sarah and me and told me that they were praying for us in North Carolina. They’d left behind some great reading material and delicious cookies. I pounded a couple of cookies and a glass of milk and gratefully went to sleep in the room they’d laid out for me upstairs. It was about 2am before I got to sleep.
Monday, November 19th
Ken
Morning came far too quickly. I had planned to be on the Cedarville campus at some point before Sarah’s first class at 11am, so I set the alarm to go off at about 8:30am. I was dragging all morning, though. After a nice long shower, a phone call to the school to find out where Sarah’s class was, and practicing some guitar, I was bolting through the door at 9:50am, hoping that I somehow would have time to get a cup of coffee.
I got to Cedarville at around 10:30am, with just enough time to set my plans into motion. My first stop: Physics class. I parked my car in front of the technology building and rushed inside to find the room. I worried about class being in session because Cedarville chapel runs from 10am to 11am. Once in the room, I got up to the whiteboard and wrote my next clue for Sarah.
The note was a dead giveaway. I knew that Sarah would recognize my handwriting in the note and on the board. I also knew that she would put two and two together as to what was going to happen. So, I jotted down a little something for her that would lead her to the Cedarville rock, tacked it to the board, and split to head over to the Student Center–it was about a quarter to 11am, and I saw people beginning to leave the chapel building.
Sarah
That morning, I awoke and prepared for one of the last days at school before break. The infamous paper was still looming over my head, so it was hard for me to concentrate on much. I lingered in front of the poem on the fridge as I was making my tea and read it again. I sighed to myself, “If only that poem were for me.” If I had read it closely, I would have been able to see the innuendos in it and realize that it was for me! But instead, I just headed over to chapel.
After chapel, my roommate, Nikki, was particularly curious as to where I was going. I didn’t know that she had already seen the rock, and had guessed as to what I had in store for me. She could hardly sit still, but was very good at hiding it from me. As usual, I headed over to the TRC for Physics after chapel. I thought I had enough time to squeeze into the computer lab and check my email before class (we don’t have a computer for that at home). So I did. However, I pushed the time just enough so that I walked into class about 2 minutes late. My professor had just finished praying and I sneaked quietly into my seat. As I looked up, I noticed an envelope on the whiteboard with a note: “For Sarah Posegate, Really, Really Important” For a moment I just stared, but then I realized that it was Ken’s handwriting. That meant that he was on campus, and he could only be there for one reason…to propose to me! My heart started racing and I didn’t know what to do. Should I just get up in the middle of what my professor was saying and get the envelope? I was pretty torn, and very excited. Fortunately, when my prof turned around to go behind the cart and lecture, he looked at the note. Then he said very slowly, “Well, I guess this is for you…so…I suppose I should give it to you.” Then he took it down and handed it to me while my other 50 classmates looked on. I turned slightly red at that point. I tore the envelope open and read the letter inside. It was definitely from Ken, and it was definitely the beginning of one of the most exciting few hours of my life! The note instructed me, in a very clever way, to head to the rock for my next clue. I was so excited that I had to share the news with someone. Although I really didn’t know anyone in that class, I turned to the guy next to me and managed to whisper, “This is from my boyfriend, and, and he’s supposed to be in New Jersey!”. I got a stoic stare and a grunt in response. So I tried again, “What should I do? I just can’t sit through a whole hour of class!!” Again, the stare and grunt. I’d have to deal with this one on my own.
At this point, I was very excited, nervous, edgy, and indecisive as to what to do next. Should I get up in the middle of lecture and leave? Or should I wait until the lecture was done? I spent the better part of half an hour agonizing over this. I alternately wrote in my journal and took lecture notes on who knows what. All sorts of things were coming together in my mind during this time…the poem last night, Ken talking to Jen on the phone, his phone being so static-y in the middle of the day, Jen on the phone that night with Amy, Amy lying about the door. Finally, after a while, I gave in. I reasoned that if it was so urgent, perhaps he had wanted me to go as soon as I got the note, and in that case, I was late!! So I quietly got up and walked out in the middle of the lecture, fascinating though it was.
Chuck’s
Ken
Chuck’s, the Cedarville University cafeteria, was recently moved to the new student center at the far side of the campus, overlooking Cedar Lake–and the rock. After I left the Physics class, I headed over to the student center to grab a bite to eat and wait. I paid the $5 to get in to the caf and sat down with some oatmeal and a coffee to write my final clue to her.
Before Sarah headed off to school back in September, she gave me a going away present. It was a “Circle Journey” writing book. The idea was that we would send it back and forth to each other and record our last year apart from each other. It was a thoughtful gift, and I wanted to include it in our day together. So, I wrote a love note to her that would lead her to me.
As I sat, I grew anxious. I watched and waited, afraid to leave my seat for fear of missing her. I tuned the guitar and waited longer. Finally, I was so compelled to do something, I wrote. All I had with me beside the guitar and camera was my Palm Pilot, so I started a new note and scribbled wildly, keeping my eye on the overcast day outside the window.
Aaaaaugh!
This is probably the edgiest moment of my life–sitting here, bird’s eye view of the rock from the cafeteria, hoping that I got the right room for her Physics class, hoping that Sarah went to class today…and all of it will come down to what happens in the next hour. I can only imagine what Sarah is experiencing now. I all but told her straight out what was going to happen.
Hey! What’s that guy doing with my rock! Oh, it’s okay, he’s walking away.
Anyway, Sarah must totally be squirming right now. If she really made it to class, it’s going to be a complete waste of time! Ack, I’m all exclamation points and sweaty palms!
The Cedarvillian response to the rock varies: some walk by, ignoring it; some walk and stare; others pause and look for a while, as if to get the full effect, or maybe just figure out what a schmook is…
oh no–I just realized that I misspelled Schmook on the Rock!! Doh!
Rain started, now no one is staring at the rock.
I find myself trying to remember the words of the song–I remember I did the same thing in class before the school play. If I think too hard about it, I’ll psyche myself out.
Just then, I noticed someone lingering at the rock.
Miscommunication and the Kindness of Strangers
Ken
I stared long and hard to be sure, but it was definitely Sarah in her hooded jacket and yellow skirt. I snapped a photo when she wasn’t looking back at the caf–she still had a clue to figure out before she got to see me.
When I pulled the camera away from my eye, I noticed that I had caught the attention of a couple of people at the nearby tables–one guy told me that he thought it was lightening. As I stood up to get my guitar and camera together I explained the situation: “You see that girl over there? I’m actually going to serenade and propose to her.” I looked at the guy closest to me who had been eating alone–”would you mind taking photos?” Without pausing, he got up from his studying and said “I’d be honored!”
I handed him the camera and we all watched out the window. And we waited. And we watched some more as Sarah started to pace around the rock. I looked at my photographer and said, “I don’t think she gets it.”
“Get’s what?” he said.
“Well, there’s a clue out there for her–it’s the picture of an envelope that I painted on the rock,” and I pointed.
He squinted at where I’d pointed and we waited some more. Finally, I said, “I don’t think she’s going to get it, would you mind going down there and telling her that her that her next clue is at the post office?”
“Sure, no problem,” he said and handed me back the camera.
“Thanks, I’ll meet you back in the student center lobby,” he acknowledged that and headed outside to meet Sarah.
Sarah
As I hurried over to the rock, I was so giddy I could hardly think. The characteristic Cedarville drizzle was starting, so I put my hood up and shoved my hands into my pockets. A few feet later, I had a thought, and I removed the ring I usually wear on my left middle finger…so my hand would be free for other things.
I approached the rock from the other side, and saw that it still had the banana split painting or whatever it was that I had noticed early that same morning. As I rounded the rock though, I saw that Ken had been busy, and I took a moment to read what it said. Then I hastily began looking for another clue. Painted rocks were nice, but I wanted to see Ken. I looked all over the rock for another envelope, but I didn’t see one. I circled the rock a few times. Then I started to get a little anxious and scoured the nearby ground for an envelope that may have blown off the rock. I didn’t even notice that the envelope painted onto the bottom of the rock was what Ken wanted me to see and take as a clue. I just thought it was decoration. When I still wasn’t finding anything, I started to wonder what I should do next. Should I just wait outside? Should I go inside? Thankfully, at that point, I saw Tristan Mason approaching me. I don’t know how I knew that he was going to help me, but I kind of thought that he might be in on it if Ken had stayed at Harriman (Tristan’s dorm) the night before. So I waited until he came up to the rock and then whined, “I can’t find it…There’s supposed to be a clue here, and I just can’t find it.”
He slowly looked at me, and then at the rock. Then, thoughtfully scratching his chin, he rounded the rock and looked at it. I followed him like a lost puppy dog. When he finished, he looked at me and said, “Yeah, there is supposed to be a clue here, and basically, I think it says to go to the Post Office.”
I blurted out, “Okay. Thanks. Bye!” and almost ran into the Student Life Center to the PO.
Two Ships Passing…
Ken
I watched from the top of the stairs as Sarah darted in the door and Tristan followed. He met me on the stairs and I handed him back the camera. It was then that I asked his name and was pleasantly surprised to find out that he knew Sarah personally. He went and found a good angle to stand waiting and I waited at top of the stairs, guitar ready in hand. People had begun to come through the doors as classes let out and I felt a little goofy standing there with a guitar in the midst of the crowd.
I’d only really expected to be waiting for a minute or two before making my grand entrance down the stairs. Two minutes turned into five and Tristan and I looked at each other and shrugged. Feeling silly, I asked if he could go hunt Sarah down again and make sure everything was copasetic. He handed me the camera again and went behind the stairs to search for Sarah.
Sarah
I was still very anxious and giddy at this point. I went over to my box and retrieved a journal that Ken and I had been mailing back and forth to each other. In the back of the small book, marked off by a 7 of hearts playing card (ask me later), was a love letter to me. In the letter, towards the end, it said, “If everything has gone according to plan, it should be about 12:15, and if you go back outside, I will be waiting for you.” I was almost bursting at this point, so I hardly read the whole letter. But when I got to that last line, I checked my watch, and it was only 11:45. I had left class too soon, I had a whole half hour to kill! My bubble was really burst then�so I decided that I could just head to the bathroom to start off with, and then maybe sit by the stairs and read my Bible while I waited. What else could I possibly concentrate on at that point?
So I went out the corner of the PO, behind the stairs and toward the bathroom. When I came back out, I saw Tristan in the hall. He stopped me and looked relieved to have found me.
He asked, “Did you go to the PO?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get the note?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you read the note?”
“Yeah, but it said that I should go out at 12:15, and it�s only 11:50, and I didn�t think that I should�”
At this point Tristan was staring at me with a certain look on his face, so I mumbled, “I guess I should go now, huh?”
“�Yeah.”
He headed off upstairs, and I headed out towards the doors, excited that I would finally see Ken! I saw my housemate Amy at the base of the stairs on my way out the door and paused to shoot an accusatory glance at her. She stopped and said, “What?” with a grin on her face. I said, ” You knew all along, didn�t you?”. She replied innocently, “Knew what?” And I said, “I�ll talk to you later.” as I smiled and turned back toward the doors.
When I got outside, I looked around and didn�t see Ken. I thought that was odd, but I hurried toward the parking lot, thinking that he may be there in a car or something. But then I heard my name. I turned, and there he was, standing with a guitar in his hand, and looking slightly flustered, but happy to have finally caught me.
If You Could See What I See…
Ken
I couldn’t believe the number of variables we’d encountered! I saw Sarah pass from beneath the stairs at about the same time that Tristan came up the stairs and was about to call her name when she saw her friend Amy. Not 15 feet away from me, Sarah must have been so fixed on getting outside that she totally didn’t see me behind Amy’s shoulder. She ended the conversation quickly and bolted for the door! I looked at Tristan, grabbed up the guitar and ran to follow her, with Tristan on my heels. When I got outside, Sarah and managed to get about 30 feet away. I called her name and she turned, excited to see me, but surprised to see the guitar. When she was in better earshot, I began to strum the chords to Geoff Moore’s “If You Could See What I See.” As I serenaded her, Sarah’s face changed from shock to pleasant surprise to…well, you can see the photos.
Once I was done, I set the guitar carefully against the building, got down on one knee and asked, “Sarah, will you marry me?”
Sarah
I walked back towards him as he started strumming the first few chords of a ballad that will always be special to me. I stood there, literally tingling with euphoria as I listened to my love sing to me. I slid my book bag off my shoulder, barely noticing Tristan taking pictures. About halfway through the story, I had another thought, and I glanced down to Ken’s hip pocket. Sure enough, there was the characteristic square bulge of a ring box! I could barely breathe, and tears formed in my eyes as I looked at him. How could God have blessed me with such a man as this? People began to walk past as classes changed, but I gave them no notice. I was too busy absorbing every word of the song. When he finished, he put the guitar down and reached into his pocket. I still couldn’t believe what was happening, even as he knelt in front of me and asked me if I would marry him.
I practically collapsed on him in a hug, gasping, “Oh my gosh, of course!” He kissed my check and we stood up together, still hugging. When I stopped sobbing with happiness, he asked if he could put it on me. I said yes, and he slipped the diamond ring on my finger, his token of a promise to marry me. I wished that I had one to give him. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined it, and I couldn’t stop grinning as we went inside together, side by side. I was going to marry the greatest guy alive. We headed toward the coffee shop to relax, be together, and tell each other the story of the past 24 hours.
Ken
After we left the cafe we went to classes together and really just enjoyed our time with each other, savoring those introductions: “This is my…fianc�…Ken.” That night, I took Sarah to the nicest restaurant in Columbus, the Refectory, where we ate a magnificent dinner in the most romantic setting. The next day, we drove back to New Jersey, ready to tell friends and relatives about our adventure and write our new story together.
The End
