Every spring, the elementary school cafeteria where I worked filled with reminders of prom season. The high school borrowed our gymnasium for its annual dance, and colorful decorations always appeared in the hallways days before the event. While students carried boxes of lights and balloons through the building, I quietly served lunches and watched another generation prepare for one of life’s memorable milestones.
One afternoon, a young teacher smiled at me and asked if I had ever gone to prom. I answered with a simple “once,” but the question stayed with me long after the conversation ended. Later that evening, I opened a small cedar box that had remained in my dresser for decades. Inside rested a faded corsage, carefully preserved despite the passing years. It was the only keepsake I still had from that unforgettable night.
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