By Jadzia Prenosil (Burnaby, BC)

Miracles do happen. It happened to me when I was fifteen. Still a tomboy I ran around our neighbourhood looking for wild adventures. And then a shy boy from my Ballroom Dancing class asked me on a date. Since I was a head taller than him he whispered it to my chest while I lead us around the room to the romantic sound of a Viennes waltz. I squeezed his hand affirmatively, joyously. It took me hours to get ready. After all I had a secret to conceal.

We met under the town's old clock. Two dolls. He in a white shirt, dark pants and I, in my flowery summer dress. The sun shone brightly as we walked along the river holding hands, giggling. We waited for the other to speak. I was dizzy from all those wonderful feelings that were floating in and out of me. "Was he the one I would marry?!" I asked my heart.

But when he pressed his lips against mine something shifted in my mouth and I pushed him away. I saw him raise his hand to shield his eyes against the glare coming from the gold crown on my right front tooth. I brushed off the secret little paper still hanging from my tooth and ran like never before.

Marriage would have to wait.

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