It was a Friday and I was on the local train having just graduated that day from the Wilson School of Applied Sciences. The train stopped in a little settlement called Vale. Looking out the window, my eyes were drawn to a stunning figure of a girl. She had a slim waist, great legs, brown shoulder-length hair and a very attractive face.
I thought to myself, probably some stuck-up girl who knows she is beautiful and is full of conceit.
As the train started again, I felt someone brush against me. It was the vision I was admiring. She said, "Hi, are you a student?" and we started a conversation. We swapped names, and she told me she was a telephone operator and her work stop would be the next station. As she was leaving, I asked for her telephone number and she said it was in the book. I called Saturday and made a date.
She lived in a large three-story house and she was one of 11 children. From that day on, our love grew. After an enchanting summer filled with the bliss of yearning love, we were married.
In three years, we had three children - a boy, followed a year later by twin girls. The children learned kindness, compassion, caring and sharing. Ours was a home of contentment, and we wanted and needed to keep her forever.
She walked softly through life giving of herself that others might enjoy a level of comfort. At an early age, she had her first heart attack, and on one of her birthdays, she found out she was diabetic, which would eventually lead to her blindness. She accepted her human frailty without complaint. When our children were grown and married, she had her last heart attack, which was more than she could bear. Our loss was devastating, our world had disappeared.
The stars no longer flamed the sky, their light seemed cold and dim. The moon hung high in a sorrowful sky like a lamp whose light had been spent. Something had gone from early morn that made for lonesome days and nights. The joy had gone from voice and sound. The earth was somber and gray. The earthly loss was deeply felt. Our prayers keep hope alive, that angels waited to gather in one who was coming home. True love lives eternal.
James McMullen
Carson City