Throughout my first year in art school, I became friendly with a girl who worked in the college cafeteria. Her name was Grace.

Grace was a bit short, with a bright and funny personality, and a friendly, confident energy. She was almost always smiling or laughing. Seeing her made me happy, and she always seemed happy to see me. I thought at first that she might be Hawaiian or something. I was a little off – she was Fillipino.

One day when I went to take my favourite spot on one of the recessed benches in the Foundation hallway, I was surprised to see Grace sitting there. (I was delighted to see her, really.)

“Hey, what are you doing in my spot?” I teased.

“Your spot?!? This is my spot.”

I smirked and sat down next to her.

As we met again and again on one of the hallway benches, I found out that she was a good listener, and also asked very straightforward and practical questions. I basically spilled my guts to her about my life, my goals, and many of the challenges in my family. Grace responded with quiet kindness and a practical style of empathy that hinted at some personal familiarity with some of the issues I’d described from my own life.

I learned that Grace was four years older than me and already had her Bachelors in Psychology from UBC. The cafeteria job was just a way to make money until she could find a job using her degree. I could tell that she was way smarter than me, and she sounded much more confident than I did. I felt calm and comfortable with her, I was attracted to her, but also just a little bit intimidated by her as well. It was an exciting combination!

As the spring term started after Christmas, I was squeezing my pennies till they screamed. I’d pack a peanut butter sandwich for my lunch, or just skip lunch some days. I’d become pretty skinny too: my weight had dropped from 142 down to about 128. I couldn’t afford to buy a muffin and coffee every morning like I had at the start of term, opting instead to bring “no name” tea bags from home and just buy a creamer and sugar packet from the cafe for 15 cents. Kim, the Chinese lady who worked behind the counter would swat me on the arm and say “You good boy!” (From her, that was the highest praise I could earn for my honesty.)

Grace noticed how poor I’d become, and started to sneak me the occasional barbecue pork or curried beef bun when her supervisor wasn’t looking. She’d find me on my/her/our bench in the Foundation hallway and give me the blessed gift of illicit food. It felt like the sweetest, kindest thing that could ever have happened to me.

One day, Grace asked me if I’d like to go with her to a dance. My brain said “holy shit – a girl has just asked me out”. I was basically a completely clueless idiot where human behaviour and social cues were concerned. As Grace’s supervisor Pat ribbed and teased her, Grace swatted her away while laughing and turning a bright red in her cheeks. Oh my God, I couldn’t believe that this nice girl really liked me! First getting into art school, and now a date! I said “yeah, sure!” or “yes, that sounds great!” or something that showed some gratitude and mild bewilderment. I’d just turned 20 last month, but Grace made me feel like a shy kid on the playground right then. I really didn’t know what to say or do, but I liked her a lot, and her attention made me feel happy, special, and worthy.

Grace picked me up at my place in her Chevy Acadian, and we were off on our date to an NDP fundraiser dinner and dance. There was food, a band, and a lot of dancing. I was sweating through my one white dress shirt, but having a lot of fun. I was still a bit shy as far as getting close, but when there was a slow dance, I felt her hands up and down my back, and then I understood. On the drive home, we stopped at a lookout point and enjoyed a view of the city and the view of each other’s eyes. We had our first kiss, and I understood that her confidence and bravado was really a cover for a very delicate, loving heart. She wanted love just as much as I did. I was so glad we’d found each other!

“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, who saved a wretch like me.”

Our second date was a fancy restaurant. She borrowed a dress from her grandmother, and I wore my best skinny jeans and my one sport coat. I had the roast rabbit. It was a lovely, fun, fancy dinner.

I was falling for her so hard, and I was so smitten with her beauty, brains, and her genuine caring kindness. For those qualities, I did begin to look up to her. I needed someone to ask me to talk, to show me that I was important to them – to show me that I deserved attention. Grace did care, she did listen, and she really helped me realize that I wasn’t alone. She understood what it was like to have family problems, and how one needed to sometimes commit to helping someone else, however you could.

I was probably a somewhat coarse, flawed young person, with a long way to go in my emotional development. I felt like Grace was simply a better person than me, and I also aspired to join her up on the pedestal that I’d put her on. Someday, I’d climb my best to get up there beside her.

On our third date, Grace snuck me into Expo 86, by pretending I was an employee like her (I wasn’t. More illicit hijinks!). It was a bright, sunny day full of crowds, colour, sun, and wonder. It was as if Disneyland had landed in the middle of Vancouver! We had so much fun going into all the exhibits and rides, exploring the grounds, and eating, eating, eating!

I’d finally gotten the metal frame of my glasses soldered together again and had enjoyed my improved vision as I marvelled at clouds, textures of pavement, the brightness of all the colours of Expo (really seeing things clearly, physically and metaphorically). Grace was happy and amazing, and Expo was a modern-age fairytale in colourful steel and concrete.

Really, most of the bright, colorful joy I was experiencing was due to the fun, joy, and friendship of my new most favourite person: my amazing Grace.