Member-only story
Romance
A Love Story in Winter
Not everyone sees the happiness you may be sharing
I twirled her around a few times while the soft moonlight filtered and fractured its way through the frozen branches of a row of nearby birch trees.
It was this magical moment that one simply cannot replicate in the warm and mostly snow-less climate of central Arkansas.
But I was in Russia and for me, everything — everything about that place was educational, motivational, and intoxicating.
This was one of those intoxicating moments.
I had met this smart, talented, and beautiful northern woman weeks earlier.
A few minutes earlier, we had taken some toys to an orphanage and were now walking through the snow and ice back to her home.
Now before we twirled, and kissed, and hugged, I didn’t know they were sitting there.
Why would anyone be sitting on a bench in these insane arctic temperatures? It must have been -20F.
To my right, I saw eight Russian grandmothers sitting in a row not ten yards away from us. They watched us and contemplated our romantic interlude.
And then, they responded in a way I must admit I had not and would never have contemplated.
