The tiny box.

I caught my breath when he handed me the tiny gift. It was wrapped in pretty paper and tied with a tiny bow.

"Happy Anniversary," he said.

"A gift? For me? But I didn't get you anything. We never exchange gifts," I stammered.

"Don't get excited.  It isn't much," he replied.

I held the tiny package in my hand, wondering what it could be.  Is it a charm, a locket?  A ring?  A ring! I held my breath as I began to gently remove the paper from the tiny box.

What if I don't like it, I thought to myself.  What if he spent too much money? Why didn't I get him something? He knows we don't exchange gifts.  My mind was racing.  It was the excitement of such a tiny package.  Or maybe it was the wine.

As I opened the tiny box, a small sheet of folded paper slipped out and onto the table.

I unfolded the paper.  I saw his familiar scrawl and read the words.   

Anniversary ring/Engagement ring upgrade.

I smiled, moved that he remember I had said long ago, before kids and mortgage payments and college funds, that I had wanted a diamond anniversary ring on our 10 year anniversary.

I thanked him for the gift and told him that I was touched by such a sweet gift.

I know that this anniversary isn't the one where I will be upgrading my engagement ring or getting an anniversary ring.  Maybe the 20th or the 25th.  Maybe never.  Really though, it doesn't even matter.

As I was unpacking from our trip, Sarah picked up the box, opened it, saw the tiny note and said, "That's it? That's all you got?"

"That's all I needed."