"You can see with your heart, things that are invisble to
your eyes"
Check this one out : (you do not need your glasses)
Sweet Story
> > >> >> > > >> >>> John Blanchard stood up from the bench > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>straightened his Army uniform, and studied the > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>crowd of people making their way through Grand > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Central Station. He looked for the girl whose > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>with the rose. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>His interest in her had begun thirteen months > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>before in a Florida library. Taking a book off > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>the words of the book, but with the notes > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>In the front of the book, he discovered the > > >> >>> > > > >> > >> >>> > > > >>previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>time and effort he located her address. She lived > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>in New York City. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>He wrote her a letter introducing himself and > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>inviting her to correspond. The next day he was > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>shipped overseas for service in World War II. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>During the next year and one month the two grew > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>to know each other through the mail. Each letter > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>but she refused. She felt that if he really > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>When the day finally came for him to return from > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Europe, they scheduled their first meeting - 7:00 > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>PM at the Grand Central Station in New > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel." So at > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>seen. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>I'll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened: A > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>young woman was coming toward me, her figure long > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>her pale green suit she was like springtime come > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>moved, a small, provocative smile curved her > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>lips. "Going my way, sailor?" she murmured. Almost > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>uncontrollably, I made one step closer to her, > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>and then I saw Hollis Maynell. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>She was standing almost directly behind the girl. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>The girl in the green suit was walking quickly > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>away. I felt as though I was split in two, so > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>was my longing for the woman whose spirit had > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>the small worn blue leather copy of the book that > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>was to identify me to her. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>This would not be love, but it would be something > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>precious, something perhaps even better than > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>love, a friendship for which I had been and must > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>saluted and held out the book to the woman, even > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>though while I spoke I felt choked by > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>the bitterness of my disappointment. "I'm > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>take you to dinner?" The woman's face broadened > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>into a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>is about, son," she answered, "but the young > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>lady in the green suit who just went by, she > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>should tell you that she is waiting for you in > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>the big restaurant across the street. She said it > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>was some kind of test!" > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Maynell's wisdom. The true nature of a heart is > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>seen in its response to the unattractive. "Tell > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>me whom you love," Houssaye wrote, "And I will > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>tell you who you are." > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Send this to 3 people, you will have good luck > > >> >>> > > > >>for an entire day. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Send this to 8 people, you will have good luck > > >> >>> > > > >>for all of next week. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Send this 11 or more people, you will know your > > >> >>> > > > >>truelove and be happy for a long, long time. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Send this to 20 or more people, you and your true > > >> >>> > > > >>love are going to be happily married for ever > > >> >>> > > > >>after. > > >> >>> > > > >> > > >> >>> > > > >>Send this to nobody, you will have bad luck for > > >> >>> > > > >>at least 5 years. |
