On a cold winter day he made his way to the nearest store and slowly stepped through the doors as they glided open of their own accord. He had dressed deliberately, but secretly, in his finest black pants and gray sweater with the faded green and blue argyle pattern along the buttons. It had always been her favorite. Checking that his hair was laying right in the framed mirror near the front door, he had slipped out as quietly as he could and made his way to the bus stop on the corner.
The clerk, in her official blue vest, watched as he browsed through the selection of bouquets near the produce.
"Can I help you, Sir?" she asked, noting the way he seemed to be carefully examining each bouquet, one at a time.
"What is your favorite flower?" he asked, looking up at the fresh faced young girl.
"I like daisies the best. What kind are you looking for?"
"Stargazer lilies," he said. "Do you have any?"
"Well, there's one in that bouquet, and one in that other one over there with the pink carnations. And one with the white roses, to your right," she said, pointing at each bouquet as she spotted them.
"You don't have one with just stargazer lilies?" he asked.
"I don't think so," she said in an apologetic tone. "Are they for your wife?"
"Yes ma'am. I get her a bouquet of stargazer lilies every year. I usually order them from the florist, but this year we just don't have the money. I was hoping you'd have them," he said, looking slightly discouraged.
"How long have you and your wife been married?"
"67 years come spring," he said smiling at the clerk. "Probably before your parents were even born."
The clerk smiled and nodded.
"We met when I came back from my basic training and I knew I wanted to marry her right then," he said. "She said she'd never marry a military man, but I knew I was going to marry that bright eyed girl." The clerk noticed that as he told their story a single tear had begun to form in the corner of his wrinkled eye and she began to tear up a bit too.
"So how did you win her over?" she asked.
"I wrote her letters the whole time I was gone. At first her responses her friendly, but nothing more. Then, as I told her about the dangers I was facing while in the war-torn country and my belief that God had it all in control, her letters started to read a bit differently. When I finally got leave to come home, she met me at the port with a sign that said, 'I can't imagine life without my military man.' That was 68 years ago today."
By the time he was done telling his story, the clerk knew what she was going to do. She pulled every bouquet the store had that contained a stargazer lily and asked him to wait right there. She ducked behind the counter and began to pull them apart, separating the lilies from the rest of the bouquets. When she had wrapped up the newly formed bouquet, she walked around the counter and handed it to the old gentleman who was standing with his hands in his pockets looking around, enjoying the flower arrangements around him.
"Here you go, Sir," she said with a bright smile.
"Thank you so much. My Joan will love these so much. How much do I owe you?" he asked, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet.
"This bouquet doesn't technically exist, so it's on the house," she said.
All he could say is "God bless you," as the solitary tear finally made its way down his crinkled cheek. He gave her a warm hug and slowly made his way out the front door and boarded the waiting bus.
