That First Kiss

Do you still remember your first kiss? Mine was unforgettable, because it was so public and so cheeky. I still blush when I think of it.

I was in grade one - in those days in South Africa, it was called Sub A. The Middle School in Ugie had organized a school concert. Not just any concert, I tell you. It was the celebration of some high point or other in the school's history. The main attraction for this event, was an hour-long performance by the littlest kids in the school.

The main character, a fairy princess, was played by the daughter of the richest man in town. Yes, Barbara definitely was as pretty as a fairy princess. All the boys in my class were madly in love with her. But her world was very different from the orphanage we grew up in. We could only dream about her, and admire her from afar.

I played the role of the chimney-sweep: a coal-covered, tattered, mischievous scoundrel with a particularly witty tongue. Barbara and I practiced together for months on end. Initially I believed Barbara got the heeby-jeebies every time she had to come in contact with soot-covered me. But as the months passed, we got to know each other better. I discovered that the fairy princess with her porcelain body and beautiful dresses, had a heart too.

The closest I got to her during the performance was to help her get out of her carriage. Every time her hand got black and dirty from touching mine, she shuddered. I was quite relieved when I realized her shivers were simply part of her act, and got the distinct impression that she didn't really mind touching my hand.

After months of practice, we put on a preview in front of the school. It went so well that we received invitations from neighboring towns.

During this time, my relationship with Barbara took shape. We were much more comfortable with each other now, even on stage. The other boys started making fun of us, but it was a small price to pay for Barbara's favor.

The evening of the grand finale arrived: we had to perform in front of everyone we knew. The school hall in Ugie was packed - the show was sold out - and we acted like true professionals.

From the audience's reaction, we knew the beauty of the fairy princess and the humor of the chimney-sweep had stolen every heart. (Speaking about stolen hearts: at the time, I was convinced Barbara was the only woman for me.)

During the final scene, the fairy princess had to hug the chimney-sweep and kiss him on the forehead - the cleanest spot on his sooty face. When the curtains closed, the applause was overwhelming. When they opened again, we curtsied politely. Hand in hand, Barbara and I bowed until our foreheads almost touched the stage. Again, there was loud applause, and the curtains closed for the last time.

Barbara and I were so relieved everything was over that we looked into each others' eyes and smiled. It was then that the rascal in me jumped out. I took ahold of Barbara with both arms, pulled her tightly to my chest, and kissed her rosebud-mouth.

At that intimate moment, the curtains opened up again. There we stood, two grade one students still locked in a passionate embrace. A bewildered Barbara looked at the audience, sporting black lips. The cruel applause for this little scene was much louder than for the show itself.

Barbara, wherever you might be today: I hope you are just as happily married as I am. I couldn't wish you more happiness than this. And thank you for my first kiss.

~Although Solly Ozrovech came from a Jewish heritage, he grew up in a Christian orphanage in South Africa. He's a minister who has written numerous books. For several years, South African women enjoyed his column in the popular Sarie magazine. This article was translated and reprinted with permission from Sarie magazine. Check out their Web site (in Afrikaans).