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Lesson Plans


Isn't this site about art--was ultimate test

[ Thread ][ Subject ][ Author ][ Date ]
Salvador Wilcox (salvador_wilcox)
Sat, 10 Jul 1999 16:09:35 GMT


It's not that I don't like sentimental stuff. I believe we want this to be
a professional site about Art specificcaly and I think we should refrain
from posting things that are not related to art. Otherwise, there's no
etiquette as far as what cute things can posted.

sal

>From: MarshArt
>To: artsednet.edu, SquitchBoy, steveg,
> Spd1425, MANITAS33
>Subject: The Ultimate Test---long post
>Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1999 20:36:59 EDT
>
> This is for all you romantic folks. It is about the true character of
>people. Skip it if you don't like sentimental stuff.
>
>Marsha
>
>The Utimate Test
>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."

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