The following is a former winner of the Amazing but Incredibly True Story Contest.
Copyright Richard Court, 1998
I loved my grandparents dearly as I was growing up. They made quite a couple. Even when I was a child I was struck by the depth of their love for each other. They were often like teenagers in love for the first time. They were private people and the funeral was a quiet affair. He was buried in Canada. It was a very small group that stood by his coffin's side as it was lowered into the ground...just family. After his burial, we all returned to Michigan.
Two weeks later, my grandmother went to the local grocery store. As she was pushing her bag laden cart out the door, a young woman, one of the clerks, ran up to her.
"Wait! Frances! Please wait for a moment!" the young cashier called. My grandmother stopped, curious about this young woman who knew her name.
"I have something for you," the girl said, her eyes sparkling. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a long thin box. My grandmother accepted the box and opened it. It was filled with a dozen fresh beautiful red roses. There was no card, no way to identify the sender.
"Who gave you these?" my grandmother asked.
"Why it was your husband who gave them to me," the girl said, glowing.
"When did he give these to you?" my grandmother asked with a shaky voice.
"He gave them to me just this morning. He said he wanted to surprise you and said these were a sign of his eternal love for you," the girl explained with a smile.
My grandmother went home understandably shaken by the experience. She called my aunt who came over to see these flowers for herself. They decided to quickly go back to the grocery store and talk with the young cashier. When they got to the grocery store, they could not find the cashier. They located the store manager and asked him where the girl had gone. The manager asked for her name, but my grandmother said she hadn't seen a nametag. She told the store manager what the girl had looked like.
The store manager stood quietly for a few moments, then said, "That sounds like Mary."
"Can we see her please?" was the eagerly asked question.
The store manager paused again, a thoughtful look on his face, then very slowly said, "Mary died in a car crash two years ago."
To contact the author, write to: Richard Court.
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