One Small Token

One defining moment in my life happened when I was twelve.  It involved a girl at my church named Joanne.  I had a huge crush on her, but she was thirteen (yes, an older woman), and when you’re twelve, one year may as well have been an eternity.  Still, I didn’t let that deter me.  I was smitten.  Every Sunday I would look to see if her parents’ car was in the church parking lot, and my heart would race a little when I saw it was.  Man, was she pretty.  She had this small little mouth and really long eyelashes and very fair complexion – kind of like one of those Korean dolls that some people have in those clear plastic boxes.  And when she talked, to me it sounded like a flute playing.  And even though I was pretty outgoing at that age, around her I turned terribly shy.  In fact, twenty years later, her phone number is still emblazoned in my memory (333-1725) because I would dial it so much all the time… well, actually only the first six digits, to be truthful, because I would hang up before the number ‘5’ ever came around.  I don’t think I said more than nine words to her at a time because I knew that if I said any more I’d probably sound like a babbling idiot.  Yeah, I had it bad.

One not so special summer day our church youth group went to Six Flags.  After lunch we went off in groups of 4 or 5 and agreed to meet up again at the entrance to the park at the end of the day.  Of course I wanted to go with whatever group Joanne was going with, but I didn’t have the nerve to do so.  So she went off with some older guys… 9th graders, and I went with some close buddies including one of my best friends, Dan.  We had a great time most of the day, and I didn’t even think about her for most of the day.  But after we went on as many rides as we cared for, we found ourselves in the games-of-skill promenade.  This is that place in the park where there are all those games where you can win a $5 prize by spending $20 on multiple vain attempts at a task that only a shaolin kung-fu expert can perform.  Each of us took turns at this one game where you had to knock down three fuzzy slipper-looking things with three softballs – not as easy as it sounds.  As I discovered, there is mostly just fuzz and nothing to really hit on those things that will knock them down.  But my buddy Dan won something pretty quickly – a stuffed lion about the size of a small shoe.  After that I was determined to win something myself.  What the other guys didn’t know was that the reason for my fervor was because I actually wanted to have something to offer as a gift to Joanne at our reunion at the entrance to the park… I know it’s cheesy, but I was twelve – give me a break.  Well, after losing about $12 and quite a bit my pride, I finally won something.  It was a stuffed bear about the same size as Dan’s lion.  Still, I was happy, and I earned it by the sweat of my brow and about a week’s worth of chore money.

As we were exiting the park, I noticed that my bear had an eye missing.  I guess in my excitement of winning, I failed to notice the defect.  I was crushed… should I still give it to her?  I thought to myself that it’s the giving and not the gift that matters, so I renewed my resolve to give the token of my affections to her.  My heart was beating double time as I approached her with my offering.

She noticed that each of us had won something and said, “Oh, you guys won some stuff – oh how cute!”

I thought that this was my one opportunity… “Yeah, I won a bear.  You can have it if you want it,” I stammered.

Her eyes lit up as she cooed, “Oh, Nathan, thank you so much!”

I don’t know what my face looked like at that moment, but it was probably something like this…  

But that was short-lived, because even as her words hung in the balmy summer air she turned to my buddy Dan and said, “Oh, wow, how cute!  A lion!  Do you wanna trade me?”

I’m certain Dan saw me because he knew about my crush on this girl, and he politely declined.  She seemed really disappointed.  And this is where I did something that was out of character for me at the time.  I think I could have easily just left it alone and went sulking into the back seat of the church van as we drove home.

But instead, I walked up to Joanne and with a clear tone said, “Listen, if you didn’t really want it you shouldn’t have accepted it.  Can I have it back please?”

I think she was a little shocked.  She was pretty and she knew it.  She knew all she had to do was pout and bat her eyes and guys would fall over each other to curry her favor.  I don’t think she was ready for my confrontation. 

“No, I’ll keep it,” she mumbled.

“No, I don’t want you to have it anymore.  Please give it back,” I replied with as much dignity as a twelve year old could muster.

So she did.  And I kept it and gave it a good home.  I vowed that the next person I would give it to would be someone who would cherish it.  Maybe I’ll give it to my future wife and say, “I’ve been waiting 20 years to give this to you.”

I just wish I knew where it was.  Eh, probably threw it away…