John Blanchard stood up for 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 earlier in a Florida library.
Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but 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 precious owners' name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address; she lived in New York City. He wrote a letter to her 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 P.M. at the Grand Central Station in New York. "You'll recognize me," she wrote, "by the red rose that I will be wearing on my lapel."
So at 7:00 P.M. 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 towards 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 towards her, entirely forgetting to notice 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 blue worn 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 tolerable 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 go and 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'll tell you who you are."
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May everyone that reads this, see the inner beauty of that special someone in your life.
I am blessed to have health, wealth, happiness, a great family and great friends who enrich me with thier presence and touch me with thier humor, wisdom, passion and compassion, helping me through my journey of life. May you my friends, find on this day, love within you to share with someone close and feel that you too are loved deeply by me.
Happy St. Valentine's Day to all you naughty lil' ladies.
( I have to post this now cause I'm gonna be "busy" on Valentines Day.)
;)
Naughty
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