The year was 1940.

You and Noah had been dating for almost a month now, and you were crazy about each other. Who would've thought? You, a wealthy pretty girl who comes from loads of money would ever dream of fooling off with a poor, boyish lumberman?

You could barely believe it when your father insisted on inviting Noah over so that the family could meet him, and you couldn't help the anxiety that struck through you. Noah was amazing. He was funny, and smart, and very handsome, and poetic, and sweet, and he treated you right. But you knew all your parents would be able to see when they meet him was a empty pockets and no future.

You sat outside of your estate, all of your family members and family friends dressed elegantly in white under a canopy. You watch your father tell a joke that gets the whole table laughing, and you look at Noah next to you.

He looked handsome in his formal black shirt, but certainly out of place.

Your father speaks up, addressing Noah; "So, what do you do, Noah?"

Noah glances around and smiles politely, "I work at the lumberyard with Fin."

You watch as your family and friends nod, seemingly mulling his words over in disapproval.

Noah continues; "Mainly milling and receiving logs, and stripping the bark."

Another man speaks up; "If you don't mind my asking, uh, how much do you make at your job?"

Noah leans forward to look at him. "About 40 cents an hour."

There's a long, heavy pause. Thick and filled with knowing glances. Your mother and father gaze at each other in clear disappointment.