A Test of True Love

A Test of True Love Six minutes to six, said the digital clock over the information desk in Grand Central Station. John Blandford, a tall young army officer, focused his eyesight on the clock to note the exact time. In six minutes he would see the woman who had filled a special place in his life for the past thirteen months, a woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and had given him strength without fail. Soon after he volunteered for military service, he had received a book from this woman. A letter, which wished him courage and safety, came with the book. He discovered that many of his friends, also in the army, had received the identical book from the woman, Hollis Meynell. And while they all got strength from it, and appreciated her support of their cause, John Blandford was the only person to write Ms. Meynell back. On the day of his departure, to a destination overseas where he would fight in the war, he received her reply. Aboard the cargo ship that was taking him into enemy territory, he stood on the deck and read her letter to him again and again. For thirteen months, she had faithfully written to him. When his letters did not arrive, she wrote anyway, without decrease. During the difficult days of war, her letters nourished him and gave him courage. As long as he received letters from her, he felt as though he could survive. After a short time, he believed he loved her, and she loved him. It was as if fate had brought them together. But when he asked her for a photo, she declined his request. She explained her objection: "If your feelings for me have any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be bothered by the feeling that you loved me for my beauty, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain. Then I'd always fear you were writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. Either way, I would forbid myself from loving you. When you come to New York and you see me, then you can make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that—if that's what we choose..." One minute to six... Blandford's heart leaped. A young woman was coming toward him, and he felt a connection with her right away. Her figure was long and thin, her spectacular golden hair lay back in curls from her small ears. Her eyes were blue flowers; her lips had a gentle firmness. In her fancy green suit she was like springtime come alive.

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He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she wasn't wearing a rose, and as he moved, a small, warm smile formed on her lips. "Going my way, soldier?" she asked. Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past forty, and a fossil to his young eyes, her hair sporting patches of gray. She was more than fat; her thick legs shook as they moved. But she wore a red rose on her brown coat. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away and soon vanished into the fog. Blandford felt as though his heart was being compressed into a small cement ball, so strong was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and brought warmth to his own; and there she stood. Her pale, fat face was gentle and intelligent; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly look. Blandford resisted the urge to follow the younger woman, though it was not easy to do so. His fingers held the book she had sent to him before he went off to the war, which was to identify him to Hollis Meynell. This would not be love. However, it would be something precious, something perhaps even less common than love—a friendship for which he had been, and would always be, thankful. He held the book out toward the woman. "I'm John Blandford, and you—you are Ms. Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May I take you to dinner?" The woman smiled. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit—the one who just went by—begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant near the highway. She said it was some kind of a test." 真爱的考验 大中央车站问询处桌子上方的数字钟显示:差六分六点。

约翰·布兰福德,一个年轻的 高个子军官,眼睛盯着大钟,看确切的时间。

六分钟后,他将见到的一位在过去 13 个月里 在他生命中占有特殊位置的女人,一位他素未谋面、却通过书信始终给予他力量的女人。

在他自愿参军后不久,他收到了一本这位女子寄来的书。

随书而来的还有一封信,祝他 勇敢和平安。

他发现自己很多参军的朋友也收到了这位名叫霍利斯· 梅内尔的女子寄来的同 样的书。

他们所以的人都从中获得了勇气,也感激她对他们为之战斗的事业的支持,但只有 他给梅内尔女士回了信。

在他启程前往海外战场战斗的那天,他收到了她的回信。

站在即将

图2

带他进入敌人领地的货船甲板上,他一遍又一遍地读着她的来信。

13 个月来,她忠实地给他写信。

即使没有他的回信,她仍然一如既往地写信给他,从 未减少过。

在那段艰苦战斗的日子里,她的信鼓励着他, ,给予他力量。

收到她的信,他就 仿佛感到自己能存活下去。

一段时间后,他相信他们彼此相爱,就像是命运让他们走到了一 起。

但当他向她索要照片时,她却宛然拒绝。

她解释道: “如果你对我的感情是真实和真诚 的,那么我长什么样又有什么关系呢。

假如我很漂亮,我会因为觉得你爱的只是我的美貌而 时时困扰,那样的爱会让我厌恶。

假如我相貌平平,我又会常常害怕你只是出于寂寞和别无 他选才给我写信的。

不管是哪种情况,我都会阻止自己去爱你。

当你来纽约见我时,你可以 做出自己的决定。

记住, 那时候我们两个人都可以自由选择停止或继续下去——如果那是我 们的选择……” 差一分六点……布兰福德的心怦怦乱跳。

一名年轻女子向他走来, 他立刻感到自己与她之间存在着一种联系。

她身材修长而苗条, 漂亮的金色长发卷曲在小巧的耳后。

她的眼睛如蓝色的花朵,双唇间有着一种温柔的坚毅。

她身穿别致的绿色套装,犹如春天般生气盎然。

他向她迎去, 完全忘记了她并没有佩戴玫瑰。

看他走来, 她的嘴角露出一丝热情的微笑。

“当兵的,跟我同路?”她问道。

他不由自主地向她靠近了一步。

然后,他看见了霍利斯·梅内尔。

她就站在那少女的身后,一位四十好几的女人,头发斑斑灰白。

在年轻的他的眼里,梅 内尔简直就是一块活脱脱的化石,她不是一般的胖,粗笨的双腿移动时摇摇晃晃。

但她棕色 的外衣上戴着一朵红色是玫瑰。

绿衣少女快速的走过, 很快消失在了雾中。

布兰福德觉得自己的心好像被压缩成一个小 水泥球, 他多想跟这那女孩, 但又深深的向往那位以心灵真诚地陪伴他、 带给他温暖的女人; 而她正站在那里。

现在他可以看见,她苍白而肥胖的脸上透着和善与智慧。

她灰色的眼中闪 烁着温暖和善良。

布兰福德克制住跟随年轻女子而去的冲动, 尽管这样做并不容易。

他的手抓着那本在他 去战场前她寄给他的书,为的是让霍利斯·梅内尔认出他。

这不会成为爱情,但将成为一样 珍贵的东西, 一样可能比爱情更不寻常的东西—— 一份他一直感激、 也将继续感激的友情。

他向那女人举起书。

“我是约翰·布兰福德,你——你就是霍利斯·梅内尔吧。

我非常高兴你能来见我。

我 能请你吃晚餐吗?”那女人微笑着。

“我不知道这到底是怎么回事,孩子, ”她答道: “那位 穿绿色套装的年轻女士——刚走过去的那位——请求我把这朵玫瑰别在衣服上。

她说如果你 邀请我和你一起出去,我就告诉你她在公路附近的那家大餐厅等你。

她说这是一种考验。

” ↖(^ω^)↗↖(^ω^)↗↖(^ω^)↗O(∩_∩)O~~↖(^ω^)↗↖(^ω^)↗↖(^ω^)↗ Every man is a poet when he is in love. Love makes the world go around. You don’t love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her. To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. Friendship is like earthenware: Once broken, it can be mended. Love is like a mirror: Once broken, that ends it.

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