I knew for a long time that I wanted to ask Michelle to be my wife. But where and how? Ryerson Camp seemed a good choice, it was the place we met. It would have to be in the spring. The camp would be empty, and I could more easily get a day off work.

I asked Kim and Jay McGibbon, the directors of Ryerson Youth Camp, to call Michelle to tell her about a "work weekend" happening at the camp. Could we come and help out? Michelle said sure we could. The plan was in motion.

I had already narrowed the ring design to two choices-on a day off work I snuck Stacey, a friend of Michelle's, down to Oakville to help me choose. I also concocted a story about meeting with a client in Cambridge-maybe her Dad and I could get together for lunch?

The ring was now on order. But how to get to Ryerson ahead of Michelle? Another layer to the story-people were needed to go down to the camp early. Apparently some strong backs were needed for heavy lifting. No problem-I travel with our friend Jeremy, Michelle comes straight from school, and we leave together in her car. She agrees this makes sense to do.

Two days before the proposal I met with her Dad-"with your blessing I would like to ask Michelle to marry me" The reply was beaming smiles (whew).

On the day of Jeremy picked me up, and we picked up the ring. It was perfect and beautiful. I couldn't stop staring at it the entire drive down. Thanks Jer for driving, I think I would have put myself in the ditch.

Jer dropped me off at Ryerson. The camp was in rough shape. A winter ice storm had downed a number of trees, which had been chainsawed up for firewood and now littered the camp. This suited me fine. I used the deadfall and logs to build five little "tables" of wood-cairns that had sitting upon them a small box and a note. They made a path from the parking lot to Vesper Point, a beautiful spot on a cliff, over the lake. Each held a collection of memories-movie theatre tickets, calendars, little collections of our life together. The note described what they were and why I had collected them.

I tried to be clever-I thought I could wait in the dining hall unseen and spot Michelle when she drove in, then sneak to my hiding space. While crossing the open field, her head popped over the hill! Whoops! A mad dash for the trees. Somehow she missed seeing me.

Michelle made her way slowly along the trail of boxes. Finally she came to the last one. With a pounding heart I stepped from my hiding place. She came to where I stood. Her eyes were beautiful and wide.

Then I got down on one knee. "There's one more box to open"...

Michelle said yes and a with few tears from both of us we hugged and kissed and laughed and then sat down to picnic over the lake. The air was perfect, the ground was soft and we were alone in the world. Strawberries and chocolate and each other. What more did we need?

On the drive back we began phoning friends and family. I nobly said I would drive so that Michelle could phone and look at her ring and not be distracted. Turns out I was distracted too and had to work really hard to keep my eyes on the road.

We had a wonderful dinner that night at the Old Mill Inn in Ancaster, a restaurant my family has often used for special occasions. It was incredible and perfect like the rest of our day.

Thank you to Kim and Jay McGibbon, Kim and Jer Belanger, Stacey Guse, Michel Chiasson, and all those who gave me advice on rings, proposing, and doing it right. You all helped us make the day very special.

My version of our engagement comes from not only the events of the day of the proprosal, but also from the enlightenment which occured on April 26th, 2002.

My story begins several weeks prior to April 26th, when I received a phone call from Kim (Kim and her husband Jay are the directors for the Ryerson Youth Camp at which John and I met). She asked me if John and I would like to participate in a work weekend at the Ryerson Camp site on the weekend of April 26-27th. I checked my schedule and noticing that there was nothing on I proceeded to call John and suggest that if he was not working those two days that it would be fun to go and help out. He said that it sounded like a good idea and we made plans to leave for the camp on the Friday right after I had arrived in Hamilton (from school in Toronto).

Approximately one week before the scheduled work weekend John informed me that there had been a storm at Ryerson and a tree had fallen across the driveway into the camp. He said that one of the camp commitee members was going to the camp with a chain saw on the Friday morning and it had been requested that John and Jeremy (Jeremy and his wife Kim are the program directors for the Youth Camp) go early on Friday to help this person clear the fallen tree. The plan was now that I would travel straight from Toronto to the camp, where I would meet up with John, Jer and any of the other work crew which had arrived.

(It is important to mention at this point that John had also planned to meet with my father the Wednesday before for lunch, telling me that he had to be in Cambridge to meet with a school which was interested in booking a program with John's employer. Of course both the story of the work weekend and the story of a school program in Cambridge had been made up. So on Wednesday John asked my dad for his blessing and received it whole heartedly).

On Friday when I arrived at the camp the place appeared deserted. My first thought was that someone had been injured and they had been taken to the hospital. I began to search around for anyone left behind or a note letting me know what was going on. When I could not find anyone I headed back toward my car and that was when I noticed a rock sitting on top of a pile of logs. Under the rock was an envelope with my name on it. This was not a "we've gone to the hospital because someone has lost a finger" note. I began to get butterflies. I opened the envelope and found a beautiful card within which John had written a wonderfully "mushy" message to me and at the end it said "follow the trail of memories, I will be waiting at the end." Under the note was a box and as I looked up, further along the path there was another pile of logs and a box sitting on top of it. I began to shake. Each box contained a note and various items which pertained to our relationship - old movie stubs, calendars and journals we had kept while John was up north, old cards, etc. By the third box I began to cry. John had made me feel as though I was the most precious thing in the world. As I reached the fifth box and read the note John came out from his hiding place (for anyone who knows Ryerson, he was hiding behind the big cement tube at Vesper Point). I dumped all the boxes I had been carrying and met him part way as he walked toward me. I gave him a huge hug and he said there was one more box to be opened. John got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said yes!

The rest of the afternoon we spent enjoying the picnic lunch that John had prepared and laid out at Vesper Point (a beautiful spot at the camp which overlooks the lake). That evening John took me to the Old Mill in Ancaster. It was a perfect day!