2) The Russian Doll

Me and my fiancée had pretty slim chances
to meet each other. Both of us were born and raised in Russia.
I?m from central Siberia and she is from Ukraine. The circumstances
were complicated by 8 time zones and the fact that she immigrated
to US 14 years ago and my student adventures brought me here only
in 2001. Well we meet at last across the ocean despite all the
odds against us.

She is special enough for me to spend almost
a year to plan my proposal. We share a language and a culture and
that’s something
we want to pass down the generations. I began hunting for a Russian
diamond, learning at the same time from different sources that
Russian school of grinding is considered one of the best in the
world. Sounds good, but not easy to find a modest stone without
working for the Russian mob. About 8 months before the day I
order a large 7-piece Russian nesting doll, the one that keeps
coming
apart until you get to the smallest piece and say "what?," I
did not know how I’m going to use it yet at the time but knew it
would
have to be clever. I know what all of you are thinking, "the
ring inside the smallest piece." Nope.

As time, and harassment about dates and plans
went on, I realized that if I propose in a public place it would
probably be a winner
on "NO-GO" proposal story show. I also wanted her to have no
clue and thought that us looking for a place to live would
help to side-track
her. I decided to contact a friend who is a real estate agent,
requesting to see if there is an empty house on the market
I could use for a few hours. After being informed that it’s practically
illegal and one could loose their license for assisting me
I
knew
exactly that’s the way to do a very special proposal. I began
planning accordingly. The night of, my beloved had a hair appointment
with
a friend of hers, which began at 8 pm. Originally, the real
estate agent was supposed to let us inside this house under the
pretence
of possible buyer relationship. As time came closer to 10 pm
and my beloved’s hair underwent only the 8th of 14 stages of
typical
female hair appointment I began to panic. A real estate agent
suggested something I’d never ask for, a combination to the
key holder from
the house, an immediate loss-of-a-job option in real estate
manuals. Then comes midnight, a bit later than originally plan
we pull
over by the prospect residence of ours. Perhaps it was the
die in her
heir that went into her bloodstream that prevented any suspicion
on my beloved’s side of why are we looking at the house at
midnight without an agent. Nevertheless, she receives a little
box and
is instructed not to come into the house until I turn on all
the lights.
I disappear for something you?ll find out in the end of this
story. She opens the box and finds the smallest piece of that
7-piece
doll. Estranged she walks in. Observes the next doll sitting
in front of her in the hall way and a note next to it stating:
"put
us all together."

She goes on to do as instructed, by going to
different rooms and finding other dolls and opening them to put
the smaller
one inside.
Each subsequent doll had notes inside stating different ideas
I had for remodeling this house and directions to the next
doll. By the time she gets to the master bedroom on the second
floor
and sees the biggest and the last doll where all the rest
go into,
she begins to suspect that perhaps I have already purchased
this house and this is my way of informing her. With mixed
feelings
she picks up the last doll expecting the rattle of keys inside
of it. Instead she finds a sleeping mask, the one they give
you on the airplane, and a not stating: "please approach
the next
room, put the mask on and knock." Completely confused by
now, just like
you are, she does as it says. She then is instructed to come
in, sit down and take off her mask. She then finds me, in
the dark
room, among countless candles, in a white suit, on one knee,
and in my hands is a black guitar. I’ve written a song to
her, which
I semi-successfully sang to her. At the end I pulled out
the ring and asked her to be my wife. In that atmosphere, soaked
with romance,
she replied: "Honey, did you buy this ugly house?" "No,"

I said, "but by the way we have to get out of here fast,
but will
you
merry me?" She said: "of course", and began crying. I pulled
out a bouque of longs stem red roses and we were out of there,
thank
God!

Proposal Story By:

Sergey

Naperville, IL

The founder and president of Diamond Cutters International, is one of the world’s top diamond experts, as well as a three-time Guinness Book record holder in jewelry design.
Fred The Diamond Guy
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