When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.
—  John Lennon

What is love? Shakespeare tells us that love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.

I’m only 10 and have yet to experience great love; so I chose to write about the only love I’m familiar with - the love my parents share. It’s not a new love filled with burning passion.

My sister says they don’t even french kiss anymore. But it’s the little things I see them do for each other that tells me what love is.

Like in the car, when my mom puts her hand on the back of my dad’s neck and massages it. Or when my dad warms up my mom’s car and scrapes the ice off her windshield on cold mornings.

And how they’ve learned to communicate with each other using their own special language.

It’s true we don’t have a lot of money, but I’d like to think even if we did, my parents would still be at home, hanging out together. Of course, in a much nicer house with a jacuzzi soaking tub.

If you ask people what they think are the greatest love stories, they’d say Romeo or Juliet or Hermione and Ron Weasley. And those are fine. But if you ask me, great love stories can be small - like my mom and dad’s!

—  Brick Heck- the middle.