My mother sent me a box of mementoes from under her house (and yes, those of you who know my cupboards well enough are going to say, “what!? *more* rubbish?”).
In it was a folded piece of A4 paper, made into a card, written on in pencil. “Dear Rosanne, my love” it says, in tiny handwriting on the outside with bad drawings of lips. And on the inside,
“Dear Rosanne,
I love you. If you find out who gave this to you dont tell anyone for they will tease you.
The boy who would love to marry you X
xxxxx ooooo”
I don’t think I ever did find out who gave it to me. It’s such a sweet thing now, though. I wish I could remember anything about how this boy gave me this letter or what I felt when I got it — and I wish I had the faintest idea who they were. How sad for him that he thought people would tease me if they found out — only because of love at that age or because of who he was? Was he even less popular than me? I have no idea whether I would have been pleased to find out or not.
I’m leaving this public in case anyone remembers anything. Or maybe it was you?