My wife, Cindy, and I met on a bus going to Disneyland.

I was a freshman at Brigham Young University, and she was a senior at BYU. I was in AFROTC, and she was in a club for girls called the Sponsors who supported the Army ROTC cadets (but were not cadets themselves). I was on an Army-Air Force saber (sword) team. She was on the Sponsors drill team. We were on our way to a drill (marching) competition at Disneyland.

I brought my guitar along on the trip, and my saber team commander suggested that we take the guitar forward on the bus and sing with the girls. I agreed, but said, “I get to pick the prettiest girl on the bus to sit across from.” And I did. She was the prettiest girl on the bus, and I knew she was WAY out of my league.

I played the guitar. We sang. I found out her name. She found out I was a freshman.

When we stopped in Fillmore, Utah for a break, we all got off the bus. She told me that she had sprained her ankle and asked if I would help her walk. I thrust my guitar into my commander’s hands. “Hold my guitar!” I put my arm around her and helped her walk.

It was really nice.

The next morning, we arrived in Southern California, got to our hotel rooms, and unpacked. Then we went out to the designated practice area and practiced in our individual teams.

Part of the competition involved a uniform inspection, and part of that inspection involved standing at attention without moving, no matter the distraction. While we were practicing for our inspection, the girls would do the inspecting, ask us questions, test our knowledge. She decided to inspect me. To test my ability to stand at attention without being distracted, she leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was meant to be a test. I failed.

That evening, we were all going to Disneyland. I called her hotel room and very shyly and awkwardly asked her if she would consider going to Disneyland “with me.”

She said, “Yes.”

Completely astonished, I squeaked back, “You will?”

We had a great time that night. When we rode the Matterhorn Bobsleds, I sat in back and she sat between my legs (the normal arrangement). She said, “Now hold onto my waist. Tighter. Tighter.”

I was thrilled to comply.

After the competition that weekend, we rode back to Provo, Utah together. We kissed. A lot.

It was glorious.

But when we got back, it was over.

I was head-over-heels in love. Utterly twitterpated.

She? Not so much. It had been fun. A lot of fun, but I was a freshman, and in a few months, I was leaving for a two-year mission for my church. She was a senior (and did I mention, WAY out of my league?) and was NOT going to wait two years for a missionary.

But I didn’t take the hint. I followed her everywhere I could. I asked her out a lot. Sometimes, she would go out with me, but she was a very popular girl. (I remember one night, she had FOUR dates with FOUR different guys—I was number four.)

We dated on and off over the summer. I was leaving for my mission in August. And though she dated a lot of other guys, I believed she was falling in love with me. I certainly tried hard to win her.

I couple of weeks before I was to enter the Missionary Training Center (and start my mission to South Korea), I purchased a small stuffed animal—a German shepherd dog. I put a ring on its collar. I wrapped it up, and gave it to her.

And then I promptly left the room.

From the other room, I heard, “Oh, how cute!” A pause. “Wait! What’s this? Is this an engagement ring?”

That was my cue to return. I said, “It could be. If you want it to be.”

“You’re going on a mission! I’m NOT going to wait for two years.”

I said, “You don’t have to wait. You could go on a mission too.”

“I don’t WANT to go on a mission! Only girls who can’t get married go on missions.” (This is not true, but that was her attitude.)

“Why don’t you pray about it?” I suggested.

“I don’t WANT to pray about it. I’d probably have to go!”

So, she didn’t exactly accept my proposal, but she DID wear the ring (on her right hand).

We dated during my remaining two weeks, spending almost every free minute together. Then I entered the MTC.

She worked at the MTC, in the cafeteria. I saw her each day at lunch in the lunch line. We talked, but no more than was proper for a missionary. She left messages for me in my mailbox every day. One day, I left a huge teddy bear for her at the reception desk.

I was in the MTC for two months as I learned Korean. One day, about four weeks in, she left a note in my mailbox. It said, “Right or left?”

When I got to the lunch line, there she was, smiling like all Heaven was gathered in her countenance. I said (eagerly), “LEFT! Definitely left!”

With a grin, she dramatically pulled the ring off the ring finger on her right hand and transferred it to the ring finger on her left hand. Then she smiled some more. And, man-oh-man was she gorgeous!

So, we OFFICIALLY became engaged when I was in the MTC, while I was going through the lunch line. I became known as the missionary who proposed to a girl in the lunch line. (I took a LOT of ribbing over that, but… totally worth it!)

She did go on a mission. She went to Spain. But she had her mission call before I left for Korea. I got special permission to be in the temple with her when she received her endowment.

Then I went to Korea.

She graduated in December and left almost four months later.

We wrote to each other every week. Our love grew.

About halfway through my mission, I was transferred to Los Angeles to teach Koreans in California. Her mother lived in Anaheim, CA. I got to have dinner (along with my companion) at her mother’s house on Christmas Day.

She returned home from her mission about two weeks before I was set to be released. So, during those last two weeks, I was VERY cautious whenever I was in her area to NOT see her. We had our wedding announcements printed up. (We had to have our pictures taken separately.)

After two more weeks, I completed my mission. By special arrangement, I got to stay in southern California, rather than returning immediately to Provo. My mission president gave me my exit interview AND my temple recommend interview for marriage. Then he shook my hand and released me.

I walked from the mission headquarters to the Los Angeles Temple (located on the same property). About forty-five minutes later, she drove up. We met for the first time in nearly two years. We kissed. We embraced. We held hands. We talked.

Then we walked hand-in-hand into the mission headquarters and posted our wedding invitation on the bulletin board.

I stayed at her sister’s house during the sixteen days before the wedding. (She stayed at her mother’s house.) We were together every second we could be. After an INTERMINABLE sixteen days, we were married, sealed together for time and all eternity, in the Los Angeles Temple. My last missionary companion was able to attend. So was a Korean couple that I had worked with and helped get to the temple to be sealed together.

After an endless day with a wedding breakfast at her mom’s house and a reception at her sister’s, we were off to Disneyland for our honeymoon.

It was glorious. We were, of course, both virgins when we married, so that made our wedding night extra special.

After a weekend honeymoon, we gave our missionary homecoming talks in her home ward (congregation). The next day we flew to Provo and moved into a tiny basement apartment. We had $70 and no jobs. We had to find jobs quickly.

I still had three years of school to go. We had the first of our six children while I was at school. It was just the beginning of forty-four (so far) wonderful years together.

I still court her. She is my princess and my queen.

I look forward to eternity with her.

I love her like Heaven.

Disneyland is still a very special place to us, but now we love to go on Disney Cruises together.

Oh, and she STILL has the teddy bear and the stuffed animal dog.