BY ELIZABETH BOYD

HEN I WAS a little girl, I dreamed of the day when my parents would buy me a bride doll. They never did.

By the time I was able to save enough money for a bride doll, I was old enough to want to be a real bride, not just play with a bride doll. I dreamed of the day when I would dress up in a long white dress and march down a lilac-laden church aisle to the music of "Here Comes the Bride." I would have a cake with lilacs cascading over the edge. The bridesmaids would be dressed in long, soft, lilac-colored dresses. They would carry bouquets of purple lilacs and I would carry white ones.

When I graduated from college, I moved to the coast of Maine and bought an old New England farmhouse with a winding staircase and a big living room. Best of all, there was a mammoth stand of lilacs on the east side of the house! The lilacs laughed at the window of the second story bedroom. In the spring their fragrance filled the whole farm. What an ideal spot for a lilac-flavored wedding reception.

I dreamed of being madly in love and living happily ever after, with every day being a new day to be in love with my loved one.

Then it happened. He came riding by in shining armor, and I was taken captive. I was in love! He was everything I had dreamed. He was strong and witty, sensitive and gentle, financially independent-and he wanted to marry me! The lilacs would bloom in a few months, and the dreams would come true.

I listened to his ideas, his dreams, and his plans. His plans, however, didn't include God. I was afraid, but I knew what I had to do. There would be no lilac-laden wedding.

I cried for a while, but then realized-I've always been in love!

I've always been in love. I wasn't old enough to walk yet, but I can still see the yard there in Griffin, Georgia. It was summer, and I had on only diapers. But the sun was warm and the grass was so green, cool, and alive! I rocked unsteadily on my hands and knees and then lurched forward. The prize was within reach. My chubby little hand connected with the bright-yellow dandelion. Ah! I pulled. It was love at first sight. My little dandelion-filled fist went directly into my mouth. Today I'm still in love with bright flowers.

I've always been in love. I can still smell his clothesline-dried undershirt under his starched white dress shirt. I can feel the beating of his heart and his warm arms around me. I can feel his big strong hand patting me between my shoulder blades. I can feel the porch swing gliding back and forth in the summer evening. And then I hear his strong bass voice. He's singing "Sweet By and By." My granddaddy is singing as he glides back and forth in the big porch swing with me on his lap-next to his heart. Whenever I hear "Sweet By and By," I'm in love all over again.

I've always been in love. I can still feel the raindrops on my cheeks and bare arms and smell the scent of rain after the storm. The gutter in front of the house overflowed into the street, and the water was cool around my bare feet. There was a flat board that would do for a boat. The kids next door joined me laughing and squealing with more flat boards-some with a nail and string attached. Even now when I close my eyes, I'm in love again-in love with the smell of rain.

I've always been in love. It was a warm summer evening in our neighborhood. The smell of honeysuckle filled the air. The women were sitting outside in little circles in the twilight talking about canning food, about kids, and maybe about quilts. The men were putting away lawn mowers. The cicadas were singing in the woods nearby, and the dogs were barking at nothing. Then the fireflies came out. They flashed low over the newly mown hay in the field across the street. They blinked and then disappeared. Kids were squealing, giggling, and running around with glass mayonnaise jars. Some had captured a few fireflies and stuffed them into the jars.

I grabbed wildly for the little creature. Then it was there-in my warm little hand rested my own firefly! I breathed warm breath on it and watched the light grow brighter. Evening slipped into night. The moment was gone. But in my heart I hold a memory, warm and glowing like the firefly on that warm summer evening.

I'm in love all over again when I remember the cool spring morning and the smell of wet sagebrush and orange blossoms. It seemed as if the desert had blossomed overnight and the grass was a bright, living green on the hills behind the railroad track. The meadowlark was awake and warbling the song uniquely its own. The mourning doves cooed to each other as they sat on the telephone wire. The world had come alive again.

The sun was still behind the hill, and the coyote was slinking away from its watch over the jackrabbits. I bridled my young filly and rode bareback up the hill and out of sight of the valley. Then I heard the chimes. A church bell far away in the valley betokened the sunrise service. It was Easter morning. When I hear the church bell chime and smell the orange blossoms and the wet sagebrush, I'm in love all over again!

I've always been in love. It was an autumn evening. The leaves were red and gold. The smell of damp earth was in the air. The crickets chirped and then went silent as I walked.

It had been raining all day, but as evening came the rain stopped. The sky was gold and gorgeous. I wondered what it was like down at the shore. I ran through the woods to the rocky shore. The tide was full and calm against the rock. The sea-gulls were quiet, and all was peaceful. The golden sky and reflecting sea glowed even more brilliantly. It seemed that I was standing inside one huge, hollow ball of brilliant gold. The smell of the sea and the sound of the crickets surrounded me-as well as a heavenly peace. I'm still in love with golden sunsets and the sea.

Lilacs still bloom in the springtime, laughing at the bedroom window on the second floor of the old New England farmhouse. I sleep alone, but each new day I'm in love all over again. I'm in love with life!

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Elizabeth Boyd is the founder/owner of Traveling Medical Professionals, Inc., a nationwide traveling physical and occupational therapy registry based in Maine. Elizabeth is retired and enjoys horses, entertaining, and music.