The Same Eyes
“From Bantry Bay into Derry Quay,
From Galway to Dublin Town,
No maid I’ve seen like the fair colleen
That I met in the County Down.”
That’s the chorus from “The Star of the County Down”, a wonderful Celtic song about a man who falls in love with a beautiful Irish girl (a “colleen”) that he meets in Downshire County, Ireland. He is struck by her smile and her “nut-brown hair.” When he asks, “Who’s the maid with the nut-brown hair,” he’s informed that she’s “the gem of Ireland’s crown, Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann.” The man vows that he’ll stop all other pursuits until she marries him, until he wins her heart. The jaunty tune is an old one, known as “Kingsfoil” and “Dives and Lazarus”. Members of my faith will know it as the newer version of “If You Could Hie to Kolob,” although we don’t tend to sing that tune at quite the same tempo in sacrament meeting. (Imagine hundreds of Mormons dancing a hearty jig on top of the pews. I know I will from now on whenever we sing that hymn.)
When I’m doing book-signings at The Author’s Corner, sometimes things are slow. I pass the time singing Celtic songs. (And yes, the singing can be heard at the far end of the mall.) I have just added this song to my repertoire. (On a side note, a teenager came up to me at a book-signing on Friday night and asked if I would sing insert-name-of-popular-song-that-I’ve-never-heard-of-here. When I told him I didn’t know it, he asked for insert-name-of-any-other-popular-song-that-I’ve-never-heard-of-here. He asked, “How can you not know that?” I just shrugged and said, “I’m pretty selective about what I listen to.” In other words, I’m picky!) “Star of the County Down” caught my attention when I first heard it, because of the hauntingly familiar (even if toe-tapping) tune. Anyone who has seen the book trailers for volumes 1 and 2 of “The Children of Lilith” will hear the same tune played in the background (by my daughter, Rachel) in a soft and melancholy arrangement.
As I memorized the song, I was struck by how applicable it was to my own “nut-brown rose” (who, by the way, is of Irish descent). I met my dear bride on a bus as we traveled down to southern California for military drill-meet decades ago. She was the prettiest maid in our group from BYU Army and Air Force ROTC. (She wasn’t a cadet; she was a member of a service club for girls that was associated with Army ROTC. The “Sponsors” marched, shot M-16’s, baked cookies, cheered, supported, sustained, and often dated the army cadets.) “She smiled as she passed me by,” as the song says, and I was enchanted.
“She looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To sheen of her nut-brown hair.
Such a coaxin’ elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.”
OK, her feet weren’t bare, but you get the picture. To say that I was out of her league was to admit the painfully obvious: not only was she a SENIOR and I was a pre-mission FRESHMAN, but she was gorgeous and popular (four dates with four guys on the SAME DAY, mind you), and I was a skinny, scrawny, awkward zoomie (AF cadet) with too many zits. But like the man in the song, I made it my life’s mission to be worthy of her, to pursue her, and to win her. When I proposed (very creatively, if I say so myself) and asked her to wait for me while I served my LDS mission, she laughed at me. When I suggested that she serve a mission herself (to make the waiting easier), she said, “I’m not going to serve a mission. Only girls who can’t get married serve missions.” I suggested she pray about it. She responded, “I don’t want to pray about it. I’ll probably have to go.” Well, she prayed and she went, and the rest, as they say, is history. She got home two weeks before I was released from my mission. We were sealed in the temple of God sixteen days later (which in my opinion was about fourteen days too long). We’ve been happily married for more than thirty years.
A few months ago, my sweet bride asked me, “Why do you love me?” The odd thing was, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t immediately sure how to answer her. I could easily have recited the myriad reasons why, as I have so many times, but I was struck by the realization that my reasons have changed over the more than three decades since we were married. The man in the song became enchanted by his “star” because of her beauty. And certainly, physical beauty is the beginning of attraction, and in my case, her looks were what caught my eye. But after that initial attraction, other factors become far more important. You can be enchanted by a pretty face, nut-brown hair, and a great body, but you fall in love with a beautiful soul.
I’ve read a lot lately about couples divorcing after decades of marriage, and more often than not, with people my age, it’s because they have “grown apart.” More than three decades ago, I fought hard to win my bride, because she was the most wonderful woman in the world. (I have often said that she is almost perfect; it’s only her taste in men that keeps her from being translated.) After all these years, she has only gotten better, even more wonderful. Don’t misunderstand me: I’ve seen her at her best and I’ve seen her at her less-than-best, but she’s more beautiful and more wonderful with each passing year. So if I fought to win her, I’ll fight to keep her. I’ll fight every day to be someone with whom she’ll want to spend the rest of eternity. Some days I do better than others. But, hey, she’s the one who’s almost perfect. Me, I have a LONG ways to go, and so far, she’s been patient.
I am so profoundly saddened when I hear of a man who’s thinking of leaving the woman he fought so hard to win. For what? Greener pastures? Somebody more perfect? Somebody younger? Somebody with whom he has more in common? What are you, man? God’s gift to women? If she was worth fighting for then, why are you willing to surrender the field now? So you can fight another day?
The love of my life no longer looks like she’s twenty. Gray hairs pepper her nut-brown tresses, and laugh lines are visible around her blue eyes. We’re both growing older and we are dealing with all that aging brings. But she’s still the most beautiful woman who has ever walked the planet. She still has the same eyes, you see, and eyes, as the saying goes, are the windows to the soul. I love her for who she is. And even if her eyes were to grow dim or even if they were to change color, they would still be the same eyes.
