A Ring for His Wife

story - ring for wife


We were walking to the car to leave and go pick up his big sisters from school when he stopped to examine something on the parking lot asphalt.  He squatted down and hunched over, silently picking up a dirty little metal grommet (the size and shape of a small washer), and climbed into our vehicle.  As he made his way to his carseat, he asked me “Mom, when do people gwow up and become adults?”  Unsure what he was trying to discover and how I ought to answer the question, I furrowed my brow while I buckled him in.

“What do you mean, honey?” I asked.

You know,” he said. “When do people gwow beards— because men have to have beards when they gwow up and when will I be a man?”

I finished buckling up my inquisitive three-and-a-half-year-old and, as I closed his door and walked around the car to get to the drivers seat, I pondered how I might answer this.  I heaved myself into my seat and responded “Well… some boys can start growing hair on their faces when they are about 16 years old, but some can’t grow beards until they are maybe 20…  So I guess when you’re about 18 is when you will probably be able to grow a beard?  But it’s different for everyone.  Why, honey?” I asked, getting to the heart of the matter.

“Because you have to be a adult to mawwy a wife,” he said.  “And I just found a wing and I am going to give it to my wife when I am a man.”  He held up the grubby little grommet so I could see it while he smiled a proud, yet shy half smile, revealing only his left dimple.

i found a wing

Cue: momma’s heart melting.

“Awww, Ben!  I love that. That is really nice,” I said.

He smiled thoughtfully, staring out the window, and nodded his head slowly.  After a few minutes of silence as we made our way towards the girls’ school, he broke the silence: “And Mom…?  Um…. never mind,” he murmured vaguely.

“What, honey?” I asked, glancing in my rear view mirror at him with interest.

“No… never mind,” he said shyly, studying the “ring” in his hand.

I thought a moment about not pursuing his thought process, but curiosity got the better of me: “What is it?” I probed.

“It’s just… No.  Never mind, Mommy,” he said, still turning his parking lot treasure in his hands thoughtfully.

My curiosity seriously piqued, I refused to let his “never mind” go.  “What is it, honey?  I really want to know what you were going to say.”

“No… never mind,” he said, unconvincingly.  He looked at my reflection in the mirror and bit his lip.

I knew I had him now: “Please, sweetie,” I pleaded.  “I really want to know what you were going to say.  Please tell me.”  We pulled up to a stop sign and I turned around to face him.

“Well… okay,” he conceded cautiously.  “I was going to say that… when I have a wife…?  I am going to kiss her.”  He looked me square in the eyes and bit his cheek, revealing his tasty dimples once more.

I tipped my head to the side and my shoulders dropped in full melting-heart-mode.  “Oh, honey, that is so nice,” I exhaled.  “I think she will really like that, sweetie,” I affirmed.  A car pulled up behind me, so I turned back around in my seat and we continued our journey to my daughters’ school.  I peeked in the rear view mirror again.

“Yeah,” he said reflectively, looking out the car window with a dreamy look in his eyes.

I smiled to myself and let him sit silently with his dreams for a few more minutes until we pulled up to my daughters’ school.  Then I unbuckled him, pulled out my phone, and started taking a video of the rest of our conversation because I knew what had just taken place was holy and beautiful and something I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget.  “Alright,” I said, video rolling.  “What do you want to say?”

“Um…” he responded, tongue dancing around his mouth excitedly and eyes averted shyly, knowing he was being recorded for posterity’s sake.  “I’m gonna love my wife,” he declared, holding up his ring proudly.

He explained the ring’s meaning and original a bit and then I asked him “What else is going to happen someday when you get married?”

“I like kissing people,” he said.  “Even when I grow up I’m gonna have kids.”

“Are you gonna kiss your kids?”


“What about your wife?  Are you going to kiss her?”

“Every time,” he said confidently.

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This little guy is three and a half years old.  Already dreaming about being happily married.  And do you know what?  I believe that dream of his will come true.  I’m praying for her already, this woman who will someday be the recipient of my dimple-faced little man’s kisses.

Lord, thank You for this precious little guy of mine.  Thank you for his sweet, innocent, loving, affectionate little heart.  I thank You that You are already preparing him for his future— whatever that may be.  And I ask You to bless and protect and prepare his future wife, whoever and wherever she may be.  May she and he both be filled with grace and love and respect and excitement over each other.  May they be each other’s biggest fans and may they learn to appreciate and minister to one another with their differing “love languages.”  Apparently, his is physical touch.  I pray that she will be generous with that for him.  And I pray that he, too, will identify and love her generously in whatever way she most effectively receives and communicates love.  I pray Your will be done in these years as they each grow up to become whoever You have planned for them to become.

I love You, Lord.  Thank You for the gift of my precious little family.  


**Note to Ben’s future wife: I’ve got a grimy little grommet locked up in our family safe, awaiting your wedding day.  It’s way too small to fit on your finger, but I am certain it will be a beautiful necklace charm someday.  He told me I’m not allowed to wear it:  “It’s for my wife,” he insisted.**



[This is Day 3 of the Write 31 Days Challenge. This year my focus is on the role of STORY in our lives.  Click here to get to the landing page with links to each post for this series.]

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What about you?

What simple, ordinary moment have you experienced lately that you want to be sure to remember for years to come?  

Please share your story in the comment section below.


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