Many people believe in love at first sight. Some folks say it's good luck for the first date to go haywire. My Mom and Dad can attest to both experiences.

Puzie Doyle "Bud" Lett and Ruby Turner Knight, both born in Harnett County, were introduced by a mutual friend. She knew the minute she looked into his deep brown eyes and saw him smile she had met the man of her dreams. He thought he had died and gone to Heaven when he looked at her gentle, beautiful face. He asked her if he could come see her the following Sunday night. She donned her favorite frock and waited excitedly but he never showed up. Why couldn't Bud come a calling? Grandpa had gone off on the pick-up truck and returned too late for Bud to visit Ruby.

When Mom and Dad were courting their parents were just beginning to own trucks so they had more mobility than the generations before them. Whoever had the wheels shared the ride with other couples so it was not unusual to have triple dating, some inside the cabin and others in the back. A ride to the river bridge at Avent's Ferry (located at the Lee-Chatham county line), was a special outing, especially if there were coins for a soda and a hot dog to take along.

The most exciting dates? Going to the moving picture show, of course, but they rarely had enough money. Dad said he called Mom "young'un" and one time he took her to the picture show and when buying tickets he ordered two -- "for me and my young'un." Later he discovered the attendant had sold him one adult and one child's ticket. Even though the courting started off a little shakey sparks flew, romance soared, and they committed easily. Mom became his childlike bride and he nick-named her "punk" and still calls her that today.

When growing up there was one story I never tired of hearing over and over again...how Dad married Mom before he went off to war. He was drafted into the U.S. Army during World War II, trained at nearby Ft. Bragg and then transferred to Camp Lee, Va. He came home on leave in the spring of 1942, and he and Mom decided to get married. She bought a purple and gold dress for the ceremony. Bud and Ruby rode down to Cheraw, S.C. and spoke their vows before a justice of the peace. They had only a few precious days together before Dad had to report to Ft. Dix, N.J.

Weeks later the summons came for Dad to go overseas to war, and he went away for two years and nine months. Mom would say woefully, "I forgot the sound of his voice." Sometimes the letters were delayed for weeks, but no news was good news. Dad came home only once from the war and then left again for another whole year. He served his country in Iceland and the European Theatre of Operations in the battles of Normandy, southern and northern France, and Rhineland.

Dad returned home with medals and battle scars -- not from injuries but from a heavy heart, the kind that comes from too much killing and too little neighboring. He and Mom had written letters about having a baby, and nine months and four days after Dad wiped his hands of war, my brother was born. They stayed with Grandpa and Grandma for a while and then settled down in a farmhouse across the road from the Lett homeplace. Within a year my sister came along.

Back then life was perfect...a couple passionately in love with each other, living in gratitude as war's horrors faded into the background, and raising their children in a farmhouse and owning a brand spanking new 1949 Chevrolet. Like the strawberries in spring and the tobacco in summer, life was ripe for the pickin' and anything was possible...and everything was a blessing.

Years later an unexpected pregnancy brought forth yours truly, who they called "Sandy Lynn," often in irritated voices as I challenged their expectations of what a sweet Christian Southern girl should be like. Through the years I have tested their faith as I moved every few years, traded in significant others like used cars, wrote about big shots and "citified" topics, and had become "way too big for her britches." I was unable to conform to the traditional way of life they valued most. When I moved back to Buckhorn community in fall 2003 to spend more time with them we discovered that the differences melted away as the warmth of love prevailed. Recently I've seen Dad wash my Mom's feet when she was sick. Only a few days ago I watched Mom look at Dad with a bride's eyes. I admire that kind of ole-timey commitment..."for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health."

On Valentine's Day Mom and Dad will be holding hands and smiling a mile a minute. This April I will host a party for my parents' 62nd anniversary. Today I am honoring the richness of family bonds and am relishing a closer connection with all the "mighty fine" folks who once gathered in harmony at Grandpa's country store. Now family and friends commune often at my parents' farmhouse where life is ripe for the pickin' every day. Come on by and "set a spell"...the door's always open.