Humor 1/26/98: Two Kinds of Love

Hey,

Actually, this week's humor email does not contain a joke or a funny
story. The first one, forwarded by Michelle Chan, is a cute story about
a romance. The second one, sent to me from the "Chicken Soup for the
Soul" free daily email service, is about a mother's love. I hope you
will enjoy them.

For those of you who have not tried snowboarding, I highly recommend
it. I did it this past Saturday and it was really fun. Your arm
muscles do get sore from pushing yourself off the snow. Also, if you
haven't seen "Titanic", go see it. I liked it so much that I saw it for
the second time today. I rarely watch movies for a second time.

For those of you in the Boston area, there are two things I want to
invite you to. The first is a Potluck sponsored by Oasis on Friday,
February 6th. at 7 pm. The second event is another one of our ballroom
dancing events, which will be held on Saturday, February 21st. We don't
know what style will be taught, but we think it will be the Rhumba.
Richard has indicated that this will be the last ballroom dancing event
we will host for a long time. I'll send out more details at a later
date.

-Josh.
_______________________________________________

"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 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 will tell you who you are. "
_____________________________________

The Scar

A little boy invited his mother to attend his elementary school's first
teacher-parent conference. To the little boy's dismay, she said she
would go. This would be the first time that his classmates and teacher
met his mother and he was embarrassed by her appearance. Although she
was a beautiful woman, there was a severe scar that covered nearly the
entire right side of her face. The boy never wanted to talk about why or
how she got the scar. At the conference, the people were impressed by
the kindness and natural beauty of his mother despite the scar, but the
little boy was still embarrassed and hid himself from everyone. He did,
however, get within earshot of a conversation between his mother and his
teacher, and heard them speaking. "How did you get the scar on your
face?" the teacher asked.

The mother replied, "When my son was a baby, he was in a room that
caught on fire. Everyone was too afraid to go in because the fire was
out of control, so I went in. As I was running toward his crib, I saw a
beam coming down and I placed myself over him trying to shield him. I
was knocked unconscious but fortunately, a fireman came in and saved
both of us." She touched the burned side of her face. "This scar will
be permanent, but to this day, I have never regretted doing what I did."

At this point, the little boy came out running towards his mother with
tears in his eyes. He hugged her and felt an overwhelming sense of the
sacrifice that his mother had made for him. He held her hand tightly for
the rest of the day.

By Lih Yuh Kuo
from A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch
McCarty & Meladee McCarty