A Girl Promised to Marry Her Childhood Friend Before Fleeing Poland in 1939 – Decades Later, Her Granddaughter Brought Her a Package and Said, ‘He Says You Must Keep Your Promise’

    I wasn’t reckless.

She hugged me tightly.

“Just promise you’ll call.”

    “Every day.”

“And don’t overdo anything.”

“Margaret, you’re ruining my reputation.”

    I didn’t choose.

***

On departure morning, I took the copper ring from my old metal box.

“Are you wearing it?” Emma asked.

    “Yes.”

“Getting married?”

“Not until I find out whether he snores.”

    You’re ruining my reputation.

“I do,” Stanislaw called.

    “Then absolutely not!”

I slipped the ring onto my finger.

Michael had been the love of my life. Stanislaw was an old friend I’d finally found again.

As we left, Margaret called, “Don’t forget your medication!”

    I took the copper ring from my old metal box.

“Darling, I’ve remembered a promise for eighty-seven years. I can manage my pills.”

***

Two days later, we stood on our childhood street in Warsaw.

“That’s where you proposed,” I said.