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A French-Inspired Garden and Home by Judith Stringham

A Thistle Tale

Monday, July 7, 2014

Drift away to a daydream love story. 
Be caught up in romantic young love. 

Purple thistles blowing in the wind along the roadsides are like the one 
pressed for keeping so many years ago. 

We had dated earlier that summer, 
and then we did not date for several weeks. 
You thought things were moving too fast. 

Our churches had a joint retreat in southwest Virginia for young adult singles. 
You brought a beautiful Canadian girl on the back of your new motorcycle. 
Early fall weather had a deep chill in the night air by the time you arrived. 

The next morning was a brilliant, sunny warm day, and 
you offered to take me riding on your motorcycle. 
Was it my first motorcycle ride? 
Yes, I know it was. 
Life with you was filled with new adventures.

Deep in the woods at a clearing on the gravel road 
we spotted wild purple thistles. 
You side stepped, slid down the slope and picked one for me. 

We spend the rest of the weekend apart, 
across the room from one another.  
You with the Canadian girl, 
both of us with others, 
individually, and in group activities. 

Back home, the thistle was pressed in a heavy book for weeks,  
as a reminder of our time riding together.
I checked on it from time to time, remembering 
how special spending time with you was. 
How much I liked your laugh. 
How easy it was to be with you. 
Weeks passed. 


You called with front-row tickets to 
Andrew Lloyd Webber's new hit musical, 
Jesus Christ Superstar. 

C'est une belle histoire 
(It is a beautiful story.)
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