jump to navigation

Love Is…

Love Graphics

The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.  ~Mother Teresa

“Know The Cleaning Lady”

During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?”Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade.

“Absolutely, ” said the professor. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say “hello.”

I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

“Pickup In The Rain”

One night, at 11:30 p.m., an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car.

A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxicab.

She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man’s door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home.

A special note was attached. It read: “Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband’s bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others.”

 

“Remember Those Who Serve”

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. “How much is an ice cream sundae?” he asked. “50¢,” replied the waitress.The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it.

“Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. “35¢!” she brusquely replied.

The little boy again counted his coins. “I’ll have the plain ice cream,” he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left.

When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies. You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

“The Obstacles In Our Path”

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king’s wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand – “Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.”

“Giving When It Counts”

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if it will save her.”As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, “Will I start to die right away?”.

Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

Love doesn’t sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all of the time, made new.  ~Ursula K. LeGuin

Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.  ~William Shakespeare, “Sonnet CXVI”

He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began.  ~Leo Tolstoy

Sometimes it’s a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.  ~David Byrne

The excesses of love soon pass, but its insufficiencies torment us forever.  ~Mignon McLaughlin

Will you love me in December as you do in May,
Will you love me in the good old fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in December as you do in May?
~James J. Walker

Love unlocks doors and opens windows that weren’t even there before.  ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, 1966

Love is like those second-rate hotels where all the luxury is in the lobby.  ~Paul-Jean Toulet

Love unlocks doors and opens windows that weren’t even there before.  ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic’s Notebook, 1966

Love is like those second-rate hotels where all the luxury is in the lobby.  ~Paul-Jean Toulet

The Gates of Dawn

by Jessica Popescu

There is a legend … a story about a girl with no family, no friends and no hope.

Before night was night, before day was day, there was a story. In that story, hope was lost, and nothing could bring it back. The sun didn’t even exist. Only darkness … and sadness … That was how the world was for this girl. Losing her parents when she was only five, the memory of her mother’s last smile was still as clear in her mind as it had been 15 years ago. She knew, now, when she was in the same state like her, that only a miracle could save her from the fate her mother and father had had before her.

During the past weeks, the girl wouldn’t speak to anyone. She was more secretive than ever before and only the sun could bring her happiness. The only thing that she ever wanted to see was the thing that had made her mother laugh. But it was impossible for her to do that. Being born blind, she had never been able to see what we have always seen, what we know and love. For her, day and night did not exist, neither the sun, nor the moon ore the stars. Only darkness, light never approaching her thoughts.

“Life is like a flower: it grows, it blooms and finally dies.” That was her favorite quote. Ironically, this blind girl loved flowers because of the way this word sounded, the touch of the delicate petals when she was touching them, their smell and the things she had heard about them.

Most of the times, she would cry, the ones around her not understanding the reason why. But there was one. She had never seen her parents, neither had she seen their funeral. She had been there, but she had never seen the people she was crying for. She was feeling like she was alone, living like the flowers she loved so much to talk about, but which she never managed to see.

For more than 5 years, she lived in a hospital, the doctors not knowing what she was suffering from. But by the age of only 17, she could no longer move her legs. However, something wonderful happened in the years she spent there. She managed to see the entire world, through the eyes of another patient who died only one year after she had arrived. She found out, that darkness, was just another type of light and that with it, and all her other senses, she could see the world, the way it really is.

The big mystery was that she really begun to see the world. She could see the sun, by only feeling its warm rays comforting her, she could see the sea, the echo of her laughter filling her up with joy, and she could see the wind, by only feeling the pleasant breeze. She had managed in only 4 years, to light up her life. And, without knowing, she managed to have the only thing she wished for: love. From the patients, from the doctors and even from the visitors, due to her new found goal: to live the life she was given.

But life was cruel with her till the end. One night, she couldn’t sleep. All night she had heard weird sounds, like gates opening and closing. They sounded like they were made out of glass. They must have been beautiful. But she was feeling, how life began to leave her body, how the sand from her life’s hourglass was falling, only a few grains remaining in the upper side. She was alone again, like she had been for her entire life. But she didn’t mind. She liked to be alone. And she couldn’t imagine a better ending than this one with memories of people laughing by her side and without tears falling down on their cheeks for her. She knew that if they had been there with her, they would have cried. She didn’t want that. She only wanted to remember them the way they truly were, the way she liked them to be ~ happy.

The final grain of sand for her fell, and by closing her unused eyes, she fell into a deep sleep, from which she could never wake up.

But, her life didn’t end at that point. The girl woke up, but by opening her eyes, she didn’t see darkness. She saw light. A weird thing she had never imagined. Everything was so bright. She could actually see something else. She could actually … see.

An endless ocean appeared in front of her. She was sitting somewhere on the cost line, surrounded by millions of flowers, all colored in many different shades. It was like in a dream. Tears of joy appeared in her eyes. She was a lot happier than ever before. But this was not over yet. A bright circle began to emerge from the ocean. The light it brought with it warmed the girl’s cheeks. She knew that sensation. It was the sun, and it was beyond words. And there, in its light, something appeared. Supported by what seemed to be clouds, a gate came out of nowhere, first like a shadow, but next like a real thing. It was made out of gold bars and glass. There, came out her mom. She was exactly the way she had imagined her. But something was different. On her mom’s back, the girl saw a pair of angelic wings, which were whiter than the clouds. She was dressed in a comfortable white robe and she opened her arms to greet her daughter.

The girl felt like in heaven. She didn’t remember the last time she had felt so happy. She wished to go up to her, embrace her, the way she used to. But how could she get up there? Maybe, with the help of her own wings…

Before she could notice, a pair of angel-like wings appeared on her own back. They were so beautiful. Now, she was just like her mom. Our girl had just become an angel. She got up on her own two feet then spread her wings which took her up in the air, her white feathers guiding her to the gate, and to happiness.

The girl could not only feel the ocean’s breeze, she could see it. The ocean was shining like a diamond, and while flying towards the gates, she remembered all those whom she had left behind. She remembered their faces and what way they had made her feel. She was determined to wait for them, and see them. By the time she landed and embraced her mother on the clouds, the gates had begun to close. Their sound was heavenly, just like everything around her. And by the time the gates completely closed, she had made a promise to herself: to stay in this world of light and wait for her friends, and why not, try to make some new friends too.

The sun began to shine stronger and stronger, till the gates disappeared within its light and with them, the girl and her memories.

Back at the hospital, the doctor who had to check up on the girl, found her without breath, and with no pulse. A tear ran down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it out. He saw the serene expression on the dead girl’s face and he knew that wherever she was, she was happy. He bent down to her and gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead. He was sad to see her go, but happy to see that before her time was up, she had managed to smile one last time.

The doctor couldn’t say “good bye”. He didn’t want to say it. In exchange, he only said: “Till we meet again, my little angel …”

I cannot say what happened to the doctor or the girl’s spirit. Nor could I say what she looked like. I am sorry to say that I can’t even let you know her name. But if you’re lucky, then maybe she will visit you in a dream, hoping you will become friends. She might tell you her story, her secrets and her dreams, and maybe, whisper somewhere at the end, her name … just like she did to me.

  Love Graphics

 

 

Comments»

1. muhsan mukhtar - July 3, 2008

I see you blog very nice poetry and beautiful blog. I like it and i think you so beautiful same like you blog.

Thanks

With best regards.

2. zabihullah - August 14, 2008

hi
good afternoon
thanks for infromation about indian films.

3. Gulfam - August 19, 2008

Hello,

4. rojina - September 17, 2009

hellow for you

5. sushma - January 28, 2010

heloo love msg

6. farzana koukab - May 14, 2010

weldon


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: