Hello there

In 2000, Sean and Katie were students at LaSalle University. Sean volunteered with a mentoring program for children in foster care. Katie volunteered with an after-school tutoring program. Both university programs used a lounge area outside the chapel as the meeting spot.

One day when Katie, then a sophomore, was working with her middle schooler, she noticed a little girl of about 3 or 4 crying. She asked what was wrong. "My mentor isn't here," the little girl said. Katie invited the girl to sit with her and the boy she tutored. About 15 minutes after she had sat down with them, the little girl dropped her book and dashed across the room to leap into the arms of her mentor - Sean.

Katie had no idea who he was, but she remembers thinking he must be a good guy to get such a response. She found out more when she saw him two weeks later at a party. "You're the guy I saw at tutoring," she told him. Sean and Katie were soon discussing how much they loved working with the kids, and both expressed a desire to adopt children from the foster-care system in the future.

"I'd love to marry a girl like you one day," Sean told her. "OK, I'll be your wife," Katie said. And so began a long-running joke. Whenever Sean and Katie ran into each other on campus, they would yell, "Hey, there's my husband!" or "Hello, wife!"

The two were friends, but never so much as kissed until the summer before Katie's senior year and Sean's super senior year - he took five years to graduate. Katie was down the Shore for the summer, and Sean sent her an e-mail saying he was coming to Avalon for a while, too. They started dating, without really defining what they were doing. "That January, I just asked him right out, 'Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?' " Katie said. "And he said, 'Yeah!' "

How does forever sound?

In February 2008, Katie and Sean headed down the Shore again, to a home her parents have in Brigantine. They went to a seafood place called Crabby's. Katie looked away from the table for a minute, and when her eyes returned to her plate, there was an engagement ring on one of the crab's legs.

"I took it off, and he said a bunch of nice things, and I said yes," she said. But as soon as Katie put the ring on her finger, something about it seemed strange. It lacked weight, for one thing. And it was three sizes too big. But she said nothing. Sean gave Katie the box the ring came in, and they went to her parents' house.

Sean went to the restroom, and Katie held her ring under the light of the lamp. "This thing can't be real," she thought. In the eight years they had dated, Katie never pressured Sean to get engaged. When people asked her, she said, "He'll do it when he's ready." But recently, she had told him she wanted to get married, and now she worried that she had pressured him into acting quickly and that some dishonest jewelry salesperson had hoodwinked her man.

"Something is wrong," her mom said. She denied it. Sean came downstairs and saw her holding the ring up to the light. "What are you doing?" he asked her. "I'm seeing it sparkle," she fibbed. "You don't like the ring!" he said. "I like it," she insisted.

Katie called her sister to tell her about the engagement. "What's wrong?" Tricia soon asked. "Nothing," Katie said. "Put him on the phone," Tricia said.

"Sean," she told him. "It's been hours. You have to tell her what's up."

Sean hung up and said to Katie, "I know you don't like your ring. Do you like this one better?"

He handed her a beautiful ring that he had especially designed for her - in a size 4.5. The one she had been wearing was indeed a cheap fake.

At home

Katie, 29, is originally from Northeast Philadelphia, and Sean, 30, is from Glenside. They live in Flourtown.

At work

Katie teaches fifth grade at Philadelphia's J.H. Moore Elementary. Sean sells insurance for the Christine Agency in Huntington Valley.

It was so them

Katie was getting ready for work one morning, about three months after the engagement. She saw a TV news segment about a wedding for charity. Top area wedding vendors would donate their products and services at a value of between $50,000 and $60,000. The wedding would be auctioned off to couples through eBay, and the money raised would benefit Alex's Lemonade Stand, a charity for cancer research.

She e-mailed Sean asking his opinion. "Sold!" he said. Both really loved the idea that money they would pay for a wedding would go to charity, and they agreed they would bid up to $30,000. The auction ended on a Saturday, and they would save their bid until then. Friday night, they were out at dinner, when Sean got a little worried. What if they had to turn over the whole amount at once? They didn't have it all. As they walked out the door, Katie found a $100 bill. "It's a sign!" she said. "The money will come from somewhere."

As the auction entered its final minutes, Katie was in a bidding war with other future brides. She typed in her cap of $30,000, and received an e-mail that she was the top bidder. But that elation soon faded - another e-mail said she was outbid. Sean called. He'd been watching the auction, too. "I guess we didn't win," he said. "Nope," she said. But then Katie handed her laptop to her sister, Tricia, who had come for moral support, and mouthed to her "Keep bidding!"

The scariest moment of all came in the final seconds, when Tricia meant to add a few thousand dollars to the maximum bid, but accidentally added an extra zero. Suddenly, Katie's bid was $340,000. And an e-mail congratulated her on winning.