I was lying on the slick tile floor of my college dorm room chatting with my younger sister (by a year and a half) about the latest gossip in our little community while twirling the black phone cord around my fingers. Deep in the mire of love, she was gushing about an all-important upcoming date-she and Mr. Be-All-End-All´s first anniversary of dating. She was in a state-would he remember, would he forget? If he did forget, what did that mean about their relationship? And God help him if he messed this up. A helpless romantic myself, I filed away this tidbit of information, not having the heart to mention that of course he was going to forget. He was a guy. He might have a general idea of when they started dating, but the odds were good that he didn´t have that all-important date scribbled in his diary, surrounded by intertwining hearts and other symbols of true love.

I took pity on the poor boy. After all, my sister was head over heels in love-the least I could do was give him the small break that was in my power. As was my custom, I headed for home the following Friday, which, as the fates would have it, was the day. Making a last stop on my way out of the college town, I purchased a bouquet of mixed flowers and gently stowed them away for the five-hour drive.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot of our little high school, I headed in to say "hi" to friends and see how my sister´s day had evolved-as it turned out, not so well. It seemed as though her significant other had blown it off completely. No card, no whispered sweet nothings, no acknowledgment. The way I saw it, no surprise, but I knew she was crushed and I was all set to play Cupid.

Leaving my sister, I sought out the tarnished hero. Not in such high spirits himself, he greeted me with a somber expression. Casually, I mentioned that I knew the importance of the day and that I just happened to have a lovely arrangement of flowers sitting unclaimed in my vehicle, and that if he could think of a good use for them, he was more than welcome to nonchalantly remove them from their spot of waiting.

A lifeline thrown to him, he was off for the vehicle-and I was off to distract my sister. The rest I would learn later that evening as my reenchanted sister told her story over and again for any and all who would listen. He hadn´t forgotten! He had merely acted that way to surprise her. She had talked to me after school, and then he had asked her to go for a ride with him. They had gone up to his parents´, and he had a bouquet of absolutely beautiful flowers waiting for her. Could we believe it?! Wasn´t it just too perfect?!

Didn´t we think they were just beautiful?

I nodded, I smiled, I acknowledged her as the luckiest girl in the world, but I´m not sure whose heart was fuller, hers or mine.

One thing puzzled her-she wasn´t sure how he had gotten the flowers (the closest flower shop being a half-hour drive from home). She was guessing his mother had made the trip-he wouldn´t tell. My little sister was confused, but nonetheless ecstatic. He had remembered!

Her knight in shining armor had regained his luster, and the day would go down in her diary as a successful step in their relationship.

That was eight years ago. On August 1, my sister and Mr. Be-All-End-All (who, by the way, is a true romantic in his own right) celebrated their third wedding anniversary, and the following day, we all gathered for the celebration of my niece´s first birthday.

The part I played in their romance was miniscule, but it made my sister happy, and that´s really the only thing that matters.