It was early in the morning, and there was a knock at my door. Three sales representatives were standing outside.
“Look!” One of them pointed at my doorstep.
Below my feet, lay four red roses and a large yellow envelope. The roses were still fresh and could not have been out for more than twenty minutes. The envelope read plainly “To Astrid, from an admirer”
“Ok you guys, what’s the sales pitch here?” I questioned.
They assured it me that it was not them. I patiently waited for the young people to leave and rushed to my telephone. Astrid is one of my closest friends, and I couldn’t wait to tell her. In a minute, I had her on the other end of the line.
Let me give you a quick bio on my friend, Astrid. She is a twenty-three year old law student who has never been in a relationship because she believes in waiting for “the one.” She is beautiful, smart and talented. Even at her young age she has already organized conferences with the Governor of our city and has participated in many political events. She is also one of the youth leaders in our church, and has inspired many young girls not to sell out, but to wait for the right man. Astrid is a “no nonsense” kind of girl who believes that relationships with no future offer nothing but unnecessary drama. With all that, she is still a down to earth girl. All this and more, is why I like her so much.
“Oh Astrid! You wont believe what I found on my doorstep,” I exclaimed “You have a secret admirer! There are some flowers here, along with a large envelope.”
“I tell you what,” she said in a very calm and collected tone “what do you say to me coming over for coffee? We can open the envelope together. It’s probably something stupid, but it will be a great excuse to come over and see you.”
Ever since I met her, I have admired her mature and selfless way of seeing things. She puts me to shame often, as was in this case, with me jumping up and down in excitement as she calmly analyzed the situation.
She arrived at my house and we chatted for a bit. Finally, I urged her to open the envelope, since I was sure I would collapse any minute from an acute curiosity condition.
When we opened the envelope several chocolates slipped out, along with a letter. From my best memory (which is not so good at all) I recall the letter saying something like this:
“I’m sure you are surprised to receive this letter and the small gifts. Its just that I had to tell you that I consider myself an admirer of yours….(I forget)
If the sky had a voice it would be yours….(I forget)
The flowers represent how I feel about you. In the same way that flowers light up a room, you light up my life. ….(I forget)
I will give you my phone number if you want to know who I am.”
We put the letter down, and quickly began to draw up our conclusions. It was either a joke or it came from someone who was immature. It must have been someone who did not want to come forward, for fear of rejection.
“He’s probably just a hopeless romantic,” my husband had now joined in on our conversation.
“Well, whatever he is, he should come forward with a name and a face,” I said.
“No, Michelle” Isaac argued, “there is nothing wrong with being a secret admirer. He’s only trying to be poetic and sweet.”
“Well whatever this is about, it would be silly of me to jeopardize my heart for an anonymous person,” Astrid concluded. “C’mon, lets have some coffee.”
And just like that, Astrid was over it. How does she do it? I continued to ponder on the identity of this mysterious person. To Astrid, it was insignificant. An attempt to win her heart had to be straight on target. It was all or nothing. This approach was not tempting to her, and was quickly discarded. Wow.
Just as soon as she left, my husband received a telephone call. It was about the identity of this secret admirer. It turned out that this was a very dear person to my husband and myself. A true gentleman, the kind of man that I would want my daughter to marry. He is tall, handsome, loyal, caring, kind, young, successful, faithful, moral and has a strong commitment to his faith. He has a degree in business, and has started his own company here in Monterrey. I suddenly realized what an idiot I am and how quick I am to draw up a judgment (I hope this lesson sticks with me forever).
My husband later spoke to him about his approach and explained that that was not the best way to aim for Astrid’s heart. The “admirer” told Isaac that he would change his approach. He will make his intentions known to my friend soon. These are no small intentions, just like Astrid, he is not willing to sell out cheap. He is also looking for “the one.”