to You
(and the Arrival of Olive)
For Olive,
Before you were you, this was the story.
Now you’re here, and it’s the best part.
Before You
Once upon a time, in a city so wide,
Lived Iris, with books always close by her side.
She loved cups of tea and helping plants grow,
Making flowers bloom wherever she’d go.
Across that same city lived Sam on his own,
With a toaster that somehow burned everything brown.
No matter the setting, it always went bust,
But Sam ate it anyway, right down to the crust.
They both thought their lives were as happy as could be.
But stories have chapters no one can foresee.
The Meeting
One Saturday morning, two phones gave a ding.
A dating app quietly changed everything.
They planned to meet later for coffee at four.
Sam got there so early he waited an hour.
He checked the front door every minute or two.
At five after four, Iris stepped into view.
The coffee arrived, and the hours flew by.
Neither wanted to say their first good-bye.
Falling
The coffee shop closed up at nine on the dot,
But Iris and Sam most certainly did not.
They wandered the city, block after block,
Filling the evening with laughter and talk.
Something was changing with each passing mile,
Beginning with coffee and ending in smiles.
It started so simply, with just one “hello,”
And grew into more than they’d ever could know.
Together
They moved in together. The toaster came too,
Still burning each breakfast the way toasters do.
Then one quiet Tuesday, right there on the floor,
Sam knelt in the kitchen, his heart all a-roar.
He’d practiced his speech over and over again,
But happy tears made him forget it just then.
So Iris said, “Yes!” with a laugh full of joy,
Before he could finish what he’d planned to say.
The News
One ordinary morning, one ordinary day,
A stick on the counter had something to say.
One line became two, and their legs both went weak.
They sat on the floor, far too happy to speak.
Then weeks after that, on a small glowing screen,
The tiniest heartbeat they’d ever seen.
Sam whispered, “Hi, Olive,” so gentle and true.
And somehow, from then on, that heartbeat was you.
Waiting for You
They painted your room in a shade called Morning Mist.
It looked yellow on the can but dried green with a twist.
Sam installed your car seat again and again,
Then checked it once more…and then checked it again.
He watched every video just to be sure,
While Iris just smiled and loved him all the more.
The kitchen still smelled of burnt toast, through and through.
And everything, everything waited for you.
And Then There Was You
Then one special day, after waiting so long,
You arrived in the world where you always belonged.
You were tiny and loud and completely brand-new,
Everything hoped for, and perfectly you.
They counted your fingers. They counted your toes.
They kissed your soft cheeks and your tiny button nose.
Then whispered the words they’d been waiting to do:
“Hi, Olive. We’ve been waiting for you.”
The End… or Just the Beginning
A book has to end somewhere, but this story keeps going.
There will be first steps and first words, walks through the city, flowers to water, and toast that is, almost certainly, slightly burnt.
There will be one specific bedtime story that gets read 412 times.
We have a feeling it’s this one.
There will be a morning, many years from now, when Olive asks the question every child eventually asks:
“How did you two meet?”
And Iris and Sam will look at each other across the table, and they will smile.
Because the answer is right here.
It always was.