Caroling

Here is a mystery that I really cannot let go of. It baffles and intrigues me, and I'll relate it to you, step by step, in hopes that you see something I cannot. Rather, make a leap that I cannot.

This story starts many years ago, with a then coworker whom I'll call 'Carol'. Carol was a friend of a friend, I had heard of her for years, and I was pleased to finally meet her. A few years older than me, I knew very well that she was a strong Christian, a woman of great faith and even deeper love. She had married for the first time just a couple of years before, on the cusp of middle age, though she looked much younger. Athletic and fit, what really showed through in Carol was her gentleness and love for other people. In many ways, Carol was a prototypical 'Christian's Christian'. She knew and understood what His Love is, and she poured it forth like an overflowing cup, touching all of those around her. Indeed, she seemed entirely pure, clean and innocent of any overt sexuality whatsoever.

Having heard a great many stories of Carol from my friend, I immediately labeled her as an "interesting person", and tended to look at her a bit more closely. I should mention straight off that I also classified Carol as entirely unavailable, falling into that "unavailable" category both by virtue of being a strong Christian, and by being "married". Double indemnity.

Being interested in her simply didn't enter my head.

Still, I was mildly amused watching her, because she was an interesting character. Carol took every opportunity to pour forth a bit of love, spread some oil on troubled waters. It was amazing to see her work, I could feel the goodness in her. Some of the people out there proseletyzing should look up "lifestyle evangelism". That was Carol. In every way. She was (and doubtless is) generous. She has a generous soul. It's simply who she is.

I also notice details, and some of them struck me wryly. So many little incongruencies. I mentioned that Carol was athletic, she had a sturdy and generous figure. No "willow" here. But firm, no "Rubenesque" either. Yet she was still graceful, as well. I meant the word "athletic". So it was a bit disconcerting to note how poorly her uniform pants fit, how awkward the shoes she wore to work were. Well, I suppose that they were comfortable.

I have to admit that I also notice more subtle things. Like, the fact that Carol was quite...full figured. Yet one day it really struck me, through the reasonably sheer back of her uniform blouse, just how slender her bra straps were. Hey, I said that I notice anomalies. It was especially puzzling that one or the other would go wildly awry on her shoulder occasionally. The jury suggested that Carol didn't need a whole lot of support.

But that's not the story of Carol, really. That happened on day as I was about to take break. At the time I had what probably was an annoying habit of simply devouring cream cheese Danishes at my lunch break. Not only that, but I'm sure that I verbally savored them as I prepared them, with a bit of butter in the microwave. Too much of a sensual delight--and I know that I conveyed that fact. This was certainly a habit that I would live to regret. But it was also one that provided one of the great mysteries of my life.

For this day, Carol and I were working alone. It wasn't busy, and when my turn came for break I know that I made some comment, with great enthusiasm, about relishing my daily Danish, and made off for the microwave. I had just slipped the plate into the oven to warm, when Carol strolled over, and I greeted her smiling, my mind happily on my delightful dish. For the moment.

I still remember the precise words that she said. Carol walked right up to me, clear blue eyes guilelessly meeting my own. Facing me, her body language was completely open.

"I'm not Danish, I'm Dutch. Would you eat me?"

Such simple statement. Capable of roiling a world.

To say that I was...confounded...would be an understatement. I can't recall the torrent of thoughts that rushed through my mind ("In a heartbeat!" among them), nor do I recall what lame, disjointed comment I mumbled in reply as the microwave chimed, and I walked dazedly away. I said that I didn't consider Carol available--not that I didn't find her attractive. But I didn't do more than look.

I sat there with a forgotten, congealing Danish before me, and tried to make sense of things. Carol had only been married two or three years, so it couldn't be a case of the "seven year itch", as they still were practically newlyweds. I tried to consider who else Carol might be...I had always seen her as entirely chaste. No off color jokes, no...nothing. My friend/her friend had even told me that she couldn't talk with Carol about sex...because Carol considered it such an entirely private issue.

Speaking of "anomalies"...

I was...befuddled. Obviously I had misunderstood Carol in manner. After an instant's disbelief, I had absolutely no doubt of the words that had come from her mouth. Therefore, there had to be some non-sexual, totally innocent connotation that she had intended, and I had simply misconstrued her words. So off to work I returned, and I didn't mention the incident again.

Yet it was not to be forgotten. For years I have tried to come up with a totally innocent connotation. And have not been able to. Not even marginally so. I consider myself to have a pretty good imagination, and am good with words and their meanings. Nothing. For the life of me.

Do you wanna try?

Please?

Of course, Carol, being a friend of a friend, would wander in and out of my life through the ensuing years, even until the very day on which that friend departed. Sometimes, wandering can be quite...emphatic.