Sweet love
stories can inspire romance even if they aren't
necessarily about romantic love. Just reading something
about true love of any kind can make you feel so
appreciative of the love in your life. This is a
very beautiful story defining the true beauty of love.
We have no idea who wrote it but it's such a pretty
story that we decided to include it. Should whomever
wrote it come forth and object to it's use, we will
gladly remove it or give credit to the author.
The Girl With The Red Rose
A Truly Touching Story Of Love and Fate
-- Author Unknown
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 red 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 go ahead 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 will tell you who you are."
