I had romantic aspirations from an early age, but I got off to a rocky start when I fell in love with a girl who didnít exist.
It happened at the Inwood Theatre, located appropriately on Lovers Lane. Sometime during the hour and fifteen minutes that I was watching the animated version of Peter Pan, I fell in love with Wendy. She was pretty and kind, and not afraid of adventure. Also she had learned to fly, so maybe she could teach me, too. At five years old I was ready for some romantic adventure.
I smiled dreamily for the next few days thinking about Wendy. But it was hard to keep so much happiness to myself. So I decided to send her a letter.
The problem was I didnít know how to write. Mother agreed to help me, and we sat on the front porch and composed my first love letter. As we discussed how best to send it, I saw the solution right in front of me. The trees. Since Wendy liked to fly, the best place to put the letter was at the top of one of them. I wanted to put it in the elm tree on the far side of the yard, since it was tallest, but the branches began so high on the trunk that I couldnít climb it. So I settled on the mimosa tree in the middle of the yard.
I put the letter in one of the empty Mason jars my grandmother used for her homemade blackberry jelly. The jar was waterproof and clear, so my letter would be protected from the weather, and Wendy could see it. I placed the jar on the highest branch I could reach.
I was relieved that Wendy would finally know how I felt about her. When I climbed back up the tree a few days later, my heart beat fast when I saw the cap was still on the jar, but the letter was gone.
As time went on, I was disappointed that Wendy didnít come to see me or at least write back. But it wasnít really such a rocky start after all. Although Wendy wasnít real, her attractive qualities were. And I learned what Iíd like to find in someone who would someday write back. I realized how important it was to find someone who made me feel happy just to think about, to be with, and even learn to fly with.
Solomon and his bride, whose name in their language is Shulamith, found all of that in each other. The dreams hinted at in childhood and only glimpsed in adolescence became reality in their life together. The Song of Solomon tells their story.
It is like a map to hidden treasure. Some of that treasure is buried deep within you, and the Song will help you find it. Some of the treasure youíll find in someone else, and the Song will help you find that too. I want to brush the dust from this Song, translate its language, and let it take you to the riches of romantic love.
Solomonís Song of Love, pp. 18-19.