Every time I see these minute blossoms springing up in the wild, I'm reminded of one of my favorite family stories, about the courtship of my great-great grandparents. Sarah was very young, 14, when John (rather older) fell in love with her. Her parents told him he would have to wait until she was sixteen to marry. He was bold enough to ask permission to write to her, but not so forward as to sign his letters "Love"; instead he wrote "Forget Me Not"... When they married, her rings were a little blue flower crafted of turquoise petals with a citrine center, and a band with the phrase engraved on it. The flower ring is long since lost, but I still have the band. I may not remember the details precisely, but the sentiment is one I'll never forget...
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