Not many girls came over to my home when I was growing up. My parents didn’t believe in dating. They only believed in marriage. They were highly suspicious of opposite-sex friendships.
Fortunately for me, I got to taste normality when I spent much of 8-12th grades at the home of the Muths at Pacific Union College in the Napa Valley. A lot of people felt comfortable coming over to the Muth home, including girls.
I think it was the summer of 1983, just before I entered 12th grade, when I fell asleep on a Sabbath afternoon at the Muths.
Unbeknownst to me, my classmate Valerie came into my room. While my male friends would’ve been tempted in such a situation to put my hand in a bucket of warm water and to delight in watching me wet myself, Valerie instead leaned over and woke me with a gentle kiss to my forehead.
It’s one of my favorite memories.
I didn’t get touched much as a kid. Or maybe I did, but still felt very hungry.
On this particular summer afternoon, I awoke to the sensation of a woman’s lips on my face and opened my eyes to see her smiling face.
