Proof The Bible Is True

Little did they know that they were visited by an angel who bore a message from heaven.

Sometimes, early in our marriage, for no reason at all, my husband would stop at a flower shop and buy me a dozen roses.

“A whole dozen!” I’d say, overwhelmed and aghast. “Oh, Dave, they’re too expensive.We can’t afford this.”

For a while he didn’t hear me. If he saw twelve roses, he’d buy them all. To the Italian romantic, more was better. But finally, my Scotch-Irish nature got through to him. “Oh, Dave, they’re so wonderful–but I just can’t appreciate more than one at a time.”

Soon he was coming home and handing me a single rose. “For you,” he’d say as he planted a kiss on my lips. Eventually, he settled on one rose in particular, an unusual lavender rose that I always gushed over. A sweet, powerful fragrance wafted from its delicate petals.

The longer we were married, the more often he stopped at the florist–for a rose. Or sometimes he bought three, which we both justified by saying that each represented one of our three children.

Ours was a marriage that got better with age–and after being tested by some dark days. In March 1973, Dave, the 37-year-old athletic director and all-purpose coach at Clear Fork High School, suffered his first major heart attack.

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