This archive report was first published on 25 December 2019.
It was Christmas morning, 1987, and I was lying in my old bed at my mother's house in Pennsylvania, my fiancée by my side. The diamond on her finger was digging into my chest, a painful reminder of the proposal we had shared the night before.
Looking back, our engagement was a cliché – Christmas Day and Christmas Eve are the most popular days to pop the question, after all. But for me, it was a turning point. I had always thought of marriage as a stupid institution, but now I saw it as a symbol of love and commitment.
As I reflected on our engagement, I began to wonder why so many people get engaged at Christmas. Is it because the holiday season is a time for giving and sharing, and what greater gift can you give than the promise of your whole life?
Or is it because we are echoing the story of the Magi, the Wise Men who brought gifts of incense, gold, and myrrh to the baby Jesus? The symbolism of diamonds – hardness, clarity, purity – seemed to resonate with me, and I felt that my life had been transformed by love.
My fiancée, Deirdre, opened her eyes that morning and removed her hand from my heart, looking at the ring in wonder. 'Oh my god,' she said, 'look at what we went and did.' We kissed, and I knew that I had made the right decision.
