Shannon here: Aspiring author, Sherry Shindelar shares how she met her husband. Comment or answer the question in this post to enter Tuesday’s drawing. Deadline: March 19th, 11:59 pm central time. Here’s Sherry:
February 1983
Thankful for a relief from the cold damp I climbed into the packed city bus. I squeezed past the knees which jutted out from the aisle-facing seats. He was there in one them, wearing a red and black flannel shirt and jeans. He’d grown a beard, since the last time I’d seen him. I’d never seen him with more than a mustache. A thin layer of dark hair covered his lower face. It gave him a rugged appeal.
Months before, he’d wrecked his car, and I didn’t own one. In the jumble of his varying work hours and my college class schedule, our paths occasionally crossed on K-Town Transit.
His deep brown eyes met mine as I wove my way past an old lady’s cane and a multitude of feet. I squeezed by with a slight smile in answer to his hello, making my way down the aisle to the standing-room only post. Shifting the heavy backpack to my other shoulder, I worried about sweat stains, as I lifted my hand to grasp the strap. I braced my legs as the bus jerked forward.
He looked up at me and said, “Here, take my seat.” A simple offer. Was he just being polite?
My cheeks heated. “No, thanks.”
“Really, take my seat.”
“No, I’m fine really.” I didn’t want to take anything from him. Despite the fact I’d been waiting weeks to have a conversation with him again.
He’d asked me out once, and I hadn’t responded. I hadn’t said no; I hadn’t said yes. I’d just paused, and then the bus had pulled up to my stop, and I had disembarked. Now here I stood three months later. I didn’t want to open myself up to him; I didn’t want a connection.
He was good-looking. Willing to share his view of the Bible with anyone who would half-way listen. But he was different. And I couldn’t count the number of times I’d put my books down on the seat next to me when I’d seen him enter the bus- putting them in the seat not necessarily because I didn’t want him to sit with me but because I didn’t want to be open- inviting and have him walk past me to sit with some other girl in the back of the bus. Protecting myself from rejection to the point of sealing myself in ice.
I’d played it safe all through high school. By my second year of college, I was ready for an ice pick but didn’t know where to begin.
The bus lurched and I tightened my grip on the dangling strap.
“Take my seat.” He stood and stepped away from the now empty spot.
He wasn’t one to take no for an answer. People were looking. I had no choice but to sit.
It was Valentine’s Day. And I remember the scene 38 years later because it was the start. The start of not putting my books in the seat. The start of my life to be. The start of my life of love.
Our first date was a week later. Three weeks after that, sitting beside him on the banks of the Tennessee River with his arm around me, I decided that this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but I waited a few months to tell him because I didn’t want to scare him away. I was done with half-measures and indecision. I was ready to invest my whole heart. We were married 18 months later. After 37 years of marriage, three children, and three grandchildren, he is still the love of my life.
About Sherry: Originally from Tennessee and the Shenandoah Valley area of Virginia, Sherry
Shindelar loves to take her readers into the past. She is an avid student of the American Civil War, and her completed novel, Shenandoah’s Daughter, is set in the Shenandoah Valley during 1863 – 1864. When she is not busy writing, Sherry is a college English professor working to pass on her love of writing and literature to the next generation. Sherry won the 2020 ACFW First Impressions Award for Historical Romance, and she was a semi-finalist in the 2021 ACFW Genesis Contest and a finalist in RWA’s 2021 Maggie Contest. In addition, she has won two MN State Art Grants and a RWA scholarship. She currently resides in Minnesota with her husband and is working on her novel, Comanche Lost. Learn more & connect:
Questions for Readers: Share about a time you risked rejection and were thankful that you did. Have you ever developed a friendship with someone you met on public transportation?
Come back March 15th for Hope Toler Dougherty!
John "Jack" Cunningham says
Comanche Lost sounds really interesting! I’ve always had an interest in both the Comanches and the Apaches.
Mary Preston says
I seem to risk rejection at every party I go to. So many cliques to avoid. Happy to go though, see what I am not missing out on.
eMarie says
I loved this window into how the Lord put you and your hubby together!!! It just took a few bus rides and viola!!! HA!! Thanks for sharing, Sherry!!! 🙂
Cherie J says
I think anytime you reach out to someone you risk rejection but it bothers you less the older you get. I can’t think of any time I ever made a friend on public transportation.
Natalya Lakhno says
Public transportation = my first boyfriend … long time ago 🙂