When I was a high school teen, my family lived near a small liberal arts college. I occasionally attended concerts and dances at the college for some social opportunity (I attended a private all-girls school many miles from home.)

I had become casual friends with one sweet freshman boy, Russ, and never though much of our acquaintanceship beyond the platonic, which was largely based on our mutual interest in certain rock bands of the era.

One morning, while getting ready for school, I heard my parents yelling in an accusatory tone at my little sisters.

"Who put that there? Did you ever plan on cleaning it up," was the line of questioning. Through their tears my sisters denied any wrongdoing.

I made my way downstairs to assess the commotion.

My mother explained to me that there were "flowers all over the front walk with your name on it."

"You mean, like a bouquet," I asked.

"No, they were those little white flowers picked off the bushes," she fumed.

I didn't really understand. My mom huffed and took it upon herself to clear the debris from the front walk with a push broom, and we went about our business for the day, never again thinking about the "flowery litter."

Some weeks later, I happened to be talking to my college pal.

"Hey, so, um, did you get my flowers," he asked shyly.

I was confused. "What? No. I mean, what flowers?"

My freshman friend pressed on, "Um, they said 'Hi' and spelled out your name."

"Um, hang on a minute..."

I ran downstairs to mom, while my poor friend waited on the phone line.

"Mom, did anyone send me flowers? Russ said he sent flowers with my name in them."

Mom pondered the question, and then realized what happened.

"Oh, remember that mess on the front walk a few weeks ago? I think that is what he's talking about! So HE did that? Oh, now I feel badly for yelling at your sisters..."

I ran back upstairs to my room to verify the information with Russ.

"Yeah," he confirmed, I was up late studying and decided to walk up to your street. I picked those flowers and spelled out the message so you would see it from your bedroom window. I hope you didn't get in trouble!"

I chuckled, both from the flattery and irony of the situation. "No," I explained, "I wasn't in trouble but my sisters were!"

I reassured him that it was a truly sweet gesture but I think he was still deflated knowing his artwork of petals met the dim fate of a pushbroom!