Let’s knock down that fourth wall for a minute — here’s a real-life tale from me, Hannah Marshall, editor of this magazine.
My fiancé proposed on Christmas Eve — a perfect choice, to be sure, but it definitely wasn’t Plan A. Before the question could be popped, the engagement ring went missing.
Dec. 23, 2016. I’m wrapping presents happily on our living room floor; Joey is doing stuff around the apartment. It becomes apparent that he’s looking for something.
Over the next few hours, details emerge. It’s small. It’s shiny. It was last seen in his shirt pocket. It’s for me.
When said mystery present is still not found the next morning, I begin to panic internally. What if it’s a ring? What if it’s NOT a ring? I try to keep calm, taking cues from my fiancé-to-be.
We were having some family friends over for Christmas Eve, so I head to my homestead in Stowe Hollow. While I’m in my parents’ kitchen, preparing spiral ham and baked Brie, Joey has called in reinforcements. His parents, brother and uncle were en route to our apartment — with plumbing tools and a Skilsaw in case the deck needed to be dismantled — when he found the present.
The beautiful round diamond on a classic yellow-gold band had slipped out of his pocket and gotten caught on a blanket, which was then folded and put away, and the ring fell off and rolled under our record player. The LP on deck? 1987’s “A Very Special Christmas,” which it turned out to be.
Ring found, and tucked safely back into its box, Joey hopped in his car and headed to the kitchen in the Hollow. I turned around to see him sliding across the kitchen floor on one knee. I squeaked out a “yes” at some point, and the next hour was a happy blur of Champagne, tears and laughter as we called friends and family.
The moral of the story? Keep the ring in the box, and don’t worry if your first plans fall through. It’s what happens at the end that counts.
Editor, Stowe Weddings/Green Mountain Weddings