The story of life

Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never know who these people maybe (possibly your roommate, neighbor, coworker, long lost friend, lover, or even a complete stranger),but when you lock eyes with them, you know at that very moment they will affect your life in some profound way .

And sometimes things happen to you that may seem horrible, painful. and unfair at first , but in reflection you find that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, willpower, or heart..

Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without these small tests whatever they may be, life would be like a smoothly paved, straight, flat road to nowhere. It would be safe and comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless. The people you meet who affect your life, and the success and downfalls you experience, help to create who you are and who you become.

Even the bad experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most poignant and important ones. If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious when you open your heart.  If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love and how to open your heart and eyes to things.

Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from those moments everything that you possibly can for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk to people that you have never talked to before, and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to. Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself, for if you don’t believe in yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in you. You can make of your life anything you wish. Create your own life and then go out and live it with absolutely no regrets.

Most importantly, if you LOVE someone, tell him or her ,for you never know what tomorrow may have in store. And learn a lesson in life each day that you live.

That’s the story of life.

My Very First Love

Yes this may be surprising, I was only 13 years old that time. But, don't know how or why it happened to me so early. I fell deeply in love with a guy, who I used to think was annoying 2 months ago.

    It was 1997, in Chittagong, Bang- ladesh, me and my family have just moved to a new apartment in a new area. So, after few weeks have passed, I started going back to school, since it was during Ramadan we moved. Well, I made some new friends in the neighborhood. This girl who was always hanging out with, her name was Ivy.

    One day when I was going to school, I bumped into Ivy on the way out of my building, and she was standing next to this guy, he lived in the building right beside mine. He said “Hi” to me, and we just asked each other “how are you” and blah blah, then I had to leave. But I noticed that guy was looking at me. It was a different kind of look, look with love in his eyes. Few days later, I noticed whenever I go to school and come back from school, he is standing in his balcony, and smiling at me. If he is not around, and one of his friends see me, they start to yell out his name. Oh yeah, by the way, his name was Mamun.

    So, I was very annoyed by those things. And I even told Ivy to tell Mamun to stop these foolishness. After my exams were over, I had a break. So I used to go to the roof and read books to spend my time. Mamun used to come to their roof also and both roofs where so close to each other that you can just jump from one to another.

    Once I was reading a book, and I noticed Mamun come to their roof and he looked at me, and smiled. OH MY GOD! I don't know what happened to me. That sweet smile just took me away. I smiled back at him, for the first time. I could never forget that moment. We used to smile at each other whenever we saw each other, but never had a chat. I was sure that he liked me a lot, because, anytime he would see me on the roof from his balcony, he came up to the roof right away. I fell in love with him very deeply. I was surprised that I did. The feelings I had was so beautiful and made me so happy.

    Mamun did come to my roof one day to talk to me but I wanted him to go away. I didn't want any one to see us talking. As you know, in Bangladesh rumors go around so fast. When we talked, I saw deep love in his eyes. I always smiled at him; I didn't talk to him much. Still, life was going on so wonderfully. Mamun never told me he loved me. I thought that was because, I was 5/6 years younger than him.

    Very soon, I found out that me and my family are leaving Bang- ladesh and coming to Canada. I was devas- tated. I cried all night but there was nothing to do. When Mamun found out, he asked me on the roof, if it was true. When I said yes, he asked how long will I be in Canada. The answer was maybe forever, we were going to settle in Canada. He looked depressed, all he said was “Oh”, then I told him out flight date.

    The next month, it was Ramadan again. Mamun came to say good bye to me on the roof, he was leaving to spend his Eid with his family. That day, I was so sad, I felt like I lost something very important in my life. We said goodbye to each other, he said he thinks I am such a sweet girl, he hopes I have a great life in Canada. Oh my god, I couldn't hold myself, I think my eyes became watery. I didn't want him to see that I was crying. I said “you too” and tried to smile and left the roof right away.

    That was the last day I ever saw my first love. Now 4 years later, here I am in CANADA. I have guy in my life now, whom I am deeply love with after Mamun. I never lose him.

    I am over Mamun now. Everytime I remember those days, looking at each other on the roof, talking, I feel really down. I wonder where he is now, if we will even meet again I can never forget my first love.

Sunrise on the eastern coast

Sunrise on the eastern coast is a special event. I stood at Dolphin’s Nose, a spur jutting out into the Bay of Bengal, to behold the breaking of the sun’s upper limb over the horizon of the sea. As the eastern sky started unfolding like the crimson petals of a gigantic flower, I was overcome by a wave of romantic feelings and nostalgia—vivid memories not diminished by the fact that almost ten years had passed.

I was a young bachelor then, and Visakhapatnam did not have much to offer. Every Sunday morning, I used to rise before dawn and head for Dolphin’s Nose, to enjoy the dazzling spectacle of the sun majestically rising out of the sea. The fresh, salty sea breeze was a panacea for all the effects of hangovers caused by Saturday night excesses.

After viewing the metamorphosis at sunrise, I would walk downhill along the steep mountain-path, towards the rocky beach, for a brief swim. Each time, I noticed a flurry of activity in a distant compound with a single decrepit building. I used to ignore it, but curiously, one day I decided to take a closer look. It was a fish market. Most customers were housewives from the nearby residential complexes. They were at their “Sunday-worst”—sans make-up, slovenly dressed, faces unwashed, and unkempt hair—in stark contrast with their carefully made-up appearances at the club the previous evening.

I had began to walk away, quite dejected, when I saw her for the first time. I stopped, dead in my tracks. She was a real beauty—tall, fair and freshly bathed, her long lustrous hair dancing on her shoulders. She had large, expressive brown eye and her sharp features were accentuated by the rays of the morning Sun. I can’t begin to describe the sensation she evoked in me; it was the first time in my life that I felt my heart ache with such intense yearning. I knew this was love. Yet, in my heart, I knew that I stood no chance—she had a man gal sutra around her neck. She was married—maybe happily, too. Nevertheless I drew closer to her and made the pretence of buying some fish. Smiling guardedly at me, she selected a couple of pamphlets and held them out to me. I managed to briefly touch her soft hands—the feeling was electric and a shiver of thrill passed through me. She communicated an unspoken “good-bye” with her teasing, dancing eyes and briskly walked away. Too dazed to follow her, I returned to my room and had fried pamphlet for breakfast. Needless to say, they tasted delicious.

Soon, I was following this routine every Sunday morning with almost religious zeal. She never missed her rendezvous with me—same place, same day, at precisely the same time, Seven o’clock. Still, not a word was exchanged between us. I was too shy and she probably wanted to keep it this way—a beautiful ethereal relationship—a love so delicate that one wrong move might ruin everything. Meanwhile, I had developed a taste for fried pamphlet—quite surprisingly, considering that I had never eaten fish before.

As the years went by, I left Visakhapatnam and travelled around the world, met many beautiful girls at the various exotic places I visited. But I never forgot her! A man’s first love would always have an enduring place in his heart.

And now, I was back in Visakhapatnam, almost ten years later. As I walked down the slope towards the beach, in my mind’s eyes I could still vividly envision the playfully sublime look on her face—her gentle smile and communicative eyes—even if ten years had passed. I could not contain the mounting excitement and anticipation in me; I was desperately yearning to see her again. It was a forlorn hope but I felt flushed with optimism. Reaching the beach, I noticed that the sun was well clear of the horizon. I glanced at my watch—almost seven o’clock. I hastened my step, almost breaking in to a run, and reached the fish market where I stood at the exact same spot, where we used to have our rendezvous at sunrise.

Trembling with anticipation verging on anxiety, I looked around with searching eyes. Nothing had changed. The scene was exactly the same as I had left it ten years ago. There was only one thing missing—she wasn’t there! I had drawn out the short straw! I felt crestfallen. My mind went blank and I stood motionless overcome with gloom, when suddenly, I felt that familiar electrifying touch, the same shiver and the familiar thrill. It jolted me back to reality, as quick as lighting. As she softly put two prom fret fish in my hand I was feeling in the seventh Heaven.

Looking at her, I was not disappointed. Her beauty had enhanced with age. Yet, something had changed, indeed. Yes! It was her eyes. Her large brown eyes did not dance so teasingly anymore. There was a trace of sadness a sense of tender poignancy in her liquid brown eye as she bid me her unspoken “good-bye”. Dumbstruck by the abruptness of the event and the enormity of the moment, I stood frozen like a statue, unable to react or say anything. It was only when she was leaving that I noticed that there was no man gal sutra around her slender neck anymore.

My heart will go on

A devoted husband spent years creating this touching heart-shaped meadow as a tribute to his late wife. Farmer Winston Howes planted the oak saplings after his wife Janet died suddenly 17 years ago.

The 70-year-old laid out the fledgling trees in a six-acre field but left a perfect heart shape in the middle - with the point facing in the direction of her childhood home.

The labour of love has now blossomed into a mature meadow - a peaceful oasis where Winston can sit and remember his wife of 33 years.

His meadow cannot be seen from the road and has remained a family secret until a hot air balloonist took this photograph from the air.

He said: "I came up with the idea of creating a heart in the clearing of the field after Janet died. I thought it was a great idea - it was a flash on inspiration - and I planted several thousand oak trees.”

"Once it was completed we put seat in the field, overlooking the hill near where she used to live. I sometimes go down there, just to sit and think about things. It is a lovely and lasting tribute to her which will be here for years."

Winston, who owns an 112-acre farm near Wickwar, South Gloucestershire, decided to seed housewife Janet's legacy after she died from heart failure in 1995, aged 50. The pair got married in nearby Stroud in 1962.

He created with the wood using small oak trees next to his farmhouse in the months after her death - marking out an acre-long heart with a large bushy hedge.

The entrance to the secret heart is only accessible from a track leading up to its tip.

Winston said: "We got people in especially to do it - there are several thousand trees. We planted large oak trees around the edge of the heart then decided to put a hedge around it too.The heart points towards Wotton Hill, where Janet is from.”

"We plant daffodils in the middle that come up in the spring - it looks great. I go out there from time to time and sit in the seat I created. I also flew over it myself about five years ago.”

Winston's memorial was shown in all its glory after keen hot air balloonist Andy Collett, 42, from Wotton-Under-Edge, Gloucestershire, soared over the wood last week.

The transport businessman could not believe his eyes when he discovered the symbol of love hidden among the trees.

He said: "I have my own balloon and am quite a regular flyer - but this was the most amazing sight I have ever seen from the sky.”

"It was a perfect heart hidden away from view - you would not know it was there.You can just imagine the love story."

A butterfly's love

There was once a placid and beautiful town in which there were a couple of lovers who would often stay together on the top of the mountain enjoying the sunrise and by the sea appreciating the sunset. Everyone who knew them could not help envying them and praying for their happy love.

But one day, the man was severely injured and lying in bed in hospital for several days without any consciousness. The woman guarded him by the bed in daytime, calling his name relentlessly while at night, she would go to the church and pray to God until her tears ran up.

A week passed by and the man was still sleeping. The woman pined away drastically, but she still persisted. One day, the God was finally moved by her love and persistence and would like to do her a special favor.

The God asked her, "Do you really want to exchange your beloved's life with yours? The woman answered without the least hesitation, "Yes." The God said, "Alright. I can help your lover recover quickly on the condition that you should promise to be a butterfly for three years. Do you agree with the deal? She said excitedly and firmly, "Yes, I do!"

The next day, the woman became a beautiful butterfly and said goodbye to God, flying hurriedly to the hospital. It turned out that the man came to his consciousness and waked up, talking with a doctor. She could not hear what they were talking about because she could not fly into the house. What she could do was watch her beloved through the windows helplessly.

Another spring came at the blinks of eyes and the butterfly was in a hurry to fly back to see the man, only to realize that there was a pretty lady standing by him. At that moment, she was so shocked that she almost fell down from the sky. She could barely believe what she saw and other people's discussion about it.

People were talking about that the man was seriously ill during Christmas and that the pretty and cute female doctor took good care of him and that finally they fell in sweet love. The man seemed to be as happy as before...

The butterfly felt heart-stricken. In the following days, she often saw the man take the woman to the top of the mountain and enjoy the sunrise with her. Also the man would take to the woman to the seaside and enjoyed the sunset together. The butterfly knew that all these should have belonged to her, but now they belonged to another woman. She could do nothing but rest on the man's shoulder off and on.

On the last day of the third year when the deal between the God and the butterfly was almost over, the man held a wedding with his girlfriend. The church was crowded with people. The butterfly flew into the church quietly and rested on the shoulder of God, listening to the man's oath to the bride and seeing him put a ring on her finger and kiss her sweetly. The butterfly could not help shedding her tears sadly.

God also felt sad and sighed to the butterfly, "Do you regret for what you have done?" The butterfly cleaned her tears on the face and said, "No." God felt a bit relieved and said, "Tomorrow you can become human again." But she shook her head and said, "No, I want to be a butterfly for the rest of my life……"



Love of a Lifetime

Once upon a time a teacher and his student lay down under the big tree near the big grass area.Then suddenly the student asked the teacher."Teacher, I'm confused, how do we find our soul mate? Can you please help me?" Silent for a few seconds, the teacher then answered, "Well, it's a pretty hard and an easy question."

The teacher continued, "Look that way, there is a lot of grass, why don't you walk there? Please don't walk backwards, just walk straight ahead. On your way, try to find a blade of beautiful grass and pick it up and then give it to me. But just one."

The student said, "Well, OK then... wait for me..." and walked straight ahead to the grassy field.

A few minutes later the student came back.

The teacher asked, "Well, I don't see a beautiful blade of grass in your hand."

The student said, "On my journey, I found quite a few beautiful blade of grass, but I thought that I would find a better one, so I didn't pick it. But I didn't realize that I was at the end of the field, and I hadn't picked any because you told me not to go back, so I didn't go back."

The teacher said, "That's what will happen in real life."

What is the message of this story?

In the story, grass is the people around you, the beautiful blade of grass is the people that attract you and the grassy field is time.

In looking for your soul mate, please don't always compare and hope that there will be a better one.

By doing that, you'll waste your lifetime, cause remember "Time Never Goes Back".

Destined to fall in love with you

Moses Mendelssohn, the grandfather of the well-known German composer, was far from being handsome. Along with a rather short stature, he had a grotesque hunchback.

One day he visited a merchant in Hamburg who had a lovely daughter named Frumtje. Moses fell hopelessly in love with her. But Frumtje was repulsed by his misshapen appearance.

When it came time for him to leave, Moses gathered his courage and climbed the stairs to her room to take one last opportunity to speak with her. She was a vision of heavenly beauty, but caused him deep sadness by her refusal to look at him. After several attempts at conversation, Moses shyly asked, "Do you believe marriages are made in heaven?"

"Yes," she answered, still looking at the floor. "And do you?"

"Yes I do," he replied. "You see, in heaven at the birth of each boy, the Lord announces which girl he will marry. When I was born, my future bride was pointed out to me. Then the Lord added, 'But your wife will be humpbacked.'

"Right then and there I called out, 'Oh Lord, a humpbacked woman would be a tragedy. Please, Lord, give me the hump and let her be beautiful.'"

Then Frumtje looked up into his eyes and was stirred by some deep memory. She reached out and gave Mendelssohn her hand and later became his devoted wife.

A Little Piece of Me

When he told me he was leaving I felt like a vase which has just smashed. There were pieces of me all over the tidy, tan tiles. He kept talking, telling me why he was leaving, explaining it was for the best, I could do better, it was his fault and not mine. I had heard it before many times and yet somehow was still not immune; perhaps one did not become immune to such felony.He left and I tried to get on with my life. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil, I took out my old red mug and filled it with coffee watching as each coffee granule slipped in to the bone china. That was what my life had been like, endless omissions of coffee granules, somehow never managing to make that cup of coffee. Somehow when the kettle piped its finishing warning I pretended not to hear it. That's what Mike's leaving had been like, sudden and with an awful finality. I would rather just wallow in uncertainty than have things finished. I laughed at myself. Imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental about a mug of coffee. I must be getting old.

And yet it was a young woman who stared back at me from the mirror. A young woman full of promise and hope, a young woman with bright eyes and full lips just waiting to take on the world. I never loved Mike anyway. Besides there are more important things. More important than love, I insist to myself firmly. The lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the whole Mike experience.

He doesn't haunt my dreams as I feared that night. Instead I am flying far across fields and woods, looking down on those below me. Suddenly I fall to the ground and it is only when I wake up that I realize I was shot by a hunter, brought down by the burden of not the bullet but the soul of the man who shot it. I realize later, with some degree of understanding, that Mike was the hunter holding me down and I am the bird that longs to fly.

The next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but without the hunter. I fly free until I meet another bird who flies with me in perfect harmony. I realize with some relief that there is a bird out there for me, there is another person, not necessarily a lover perhaps just a friend, but there is someone out there who is my soul mate. I think about being a broken vase again and realize that I have glued myself back together, what Mike has is merely a little part of my time in earth, a little understanding of my physical being. He has only, a little piece of me.

As Fate Would Have It

Desperately lonely at only 17 years old may not be normal, but so many things had happened in my life to make me feel like my world was crashing down. Growing up poor had never been easy, but somehow I managed to live my life around it. My mother, a single mother of four, was struggling to make ends meet working at our local McDonalds. I was the oldest and just a year before had all the hopes and dreams of any normal 16 year old girl. I was moderately attractive and at times, perky and outgoing. Always striving to do my best, I managed to squeeze out some pretty good grades. I took college prep classes in the hopes of someday being a nurse.

However, poverty whisked my dream away. My mother could not afford our four tuition fees and she had to start making me stay home from school during days she worked day shift to care for my 3-year-old brother. Eventually I quit school. My dreams of going to college were washed away in the blink of an eye. I was now assuming the role of a mother to my little brother, taking on all the responsibility of any stay at home mom. When my mother worked nights, my responsibility grew to two additional children, who were school aged, and all that it entailed. Most nights I would go to bed exhausted and depressed. I often wondered if my life was ever going to change. I would not cry to my mother about my pitiful life because I did not wish to upset her. I was feeling like I had no way out. It even occurred to me that fortune did not favor me and my life was done.

One of my friends tried to enlighten me by telling me that she worked with a young man who had a younger brother my age, who just moved here from Cincinnati, Ohio and didn’t know anyone. She got his number and wanted me to give him a call. I was not interested at all but loneliness overwhelmed me and I needed to find my way out. I tried to call one afternoon and got his older brother. The brother, Brandon, said that the one who I was calling for, Scott, was in Cincinnati for the week visiting old friends. But he invited me to a party that evening and said Scott would show up. My friend and I went to that party that evening and she introduced me to the brother she was working with, Brandon. No sooner were we introduced, at that very moment, and in walked a boy I had never seen in town before. The moment he walked in, our eyes locked. I honestly could not hear what everyone else was saying. And to my surprise, he was walking right up to me, my friend and Brandon. All of a sudden, Brandon looked at me, and said, “By the way, this is my brother, Scott!”

I was lost in my own thoughts, while gazing into his eyes. I fumbled over my words. He repeated, “This is my brother Scott...Scott, this is Tara.” We simultaneously said hello and shook hands. But when we shook, we held on for just a moment longer than most. Among the rustle and bustle of the restaurant, I was in my own little world. Happiness came over me and we had a wonderful evening. When I got home, he called me and we talked for 5 hours. Two days later, he came to visit at my house with a single rose in hand. Shortly after, young love blossomed, and in 6 months, we were engaged.

Mother was uncomfortable with our engagement because she thought we were too young to get engaged. Love injected a thread of hope and joy into my life and for the first time I truly believed that I had my fate in my hands. On November 13th,1993, one week after my 18th birthday, we exchanged vows in front of our close friends and family. Many were unhappy about our wedding. They informed us that we wouldn’t last 3 months. Last year we celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary!

Life is not easy for young couples. We have endured many trials and tribulations in our time together. We survived financial hardships, the death of both of his parents, loss of jobs, sickness, and most recently, our house burnt down. We lost everything but our lives. What hasn’t killed us, has only made us stronger.

We had each other and fought fate to make things better. I even got to start nursing school in 2000. We made a commitment to each other when we were probably too young. But we knew we loved each other from the start. Who knows where I’d be today had fate not thrown me into that restaurant all those years ago. I recognize the limitations of my fate but most importantly I recognize the vastness of the possibilities we control with our free will. While we cannot do absolutely anything, we can do so many things that we can consistently surprise ourselves, and make our lives as unique and meaningful as we wish.

You are my Joy

She was dancing. My crippled grandmother was dancing. I stood in the living room doorway absolutely stunned. I glanced at the kitchen table and sure enough-right under a small, framed drawing on the wall-was a freshly baked peach pie.

I heard her sing when I opened the door but did not want to interrupt the beautiful song by yelling I had arrived, so I just tiptoed to the living room. I looked at how her still-lean body bent beautifully, her arms greeting the sunlight that was pouring through the window. And her legs… Those legs that had stiffly walked, aided with a cane, insensible shoes as long as I could remember. Now she was wearing beautiful dancing shoes and her legs obeyed her perfectly. No limping. No stiffness. Just beautiful, fluid motion. She was the pet of the dancing world. And then she’d had her accident and it was all over. I had read that in an old newspaper clipping.

She turned around in a slow pirouette and saw me standing in the doorway. Her song ended, and her beautiful movements with it, so abruptly that it felt like being shaken awake from a beautiful dream. The sudden silence rang in my ears. Grandma looked so much like a kid caught with her hand in a cookie jar that I couldn’t help myself, and a slightly nervous laughter escaped. Grandma sighed and turned towards the kitchen. I followed her, not believing my eyes. She was walking with no difficulties in her beautiful shoes. We sat down by the table and cut ourselves big pieces of her delicious peach pie.

“So…” I blurted, “How did your leg heal?”

“To tell you the truth—my legs have been well all my life,” she said.

“But I don’t understand!” I said, “Your dancing career… I mean… You pretended all these years?

“Very much so,” Grandmother closed her eyes and savored the peach pie, “And for a very good reason.”

“What reason?”

“Your grandfather.”

“You mean he told you not to dance?”

“No, this was my choice. I am sure I would have lost him if I had continued dancing. I weighed fame and love against each other and love won.”

She thought for a while and then continued. “We were talking about engagement when your grandfather had to go to war. It was the most horrible day of my life when he left. I was so afraid of losing him, the only way I could stay sane was to dance. I put all my energy and time into practicing—and I became very good. Critics praised me, the public loved me, but all I could feel was the ache in my heart, not knowing whether the love of my life would ever return. Then I went home and read and re-read his letters until I fell asleep. He always ended his letters with ‘You are my Joy. I love you with my life’ and after that he wrote his name. And then one day a letter came. There were only three sentences: ‘I have lost my leg. I am no longer a whole man and now give you back your freedom. It is best you forget about me.”

“I made my decision there and then. I took my leave, and traveled away from the city. When I returned I had bought myself a cane and wrapped my leg tightly with bandages. I told everyone I had been in a car crash and that my leg would never completely heal again. My dancing days were over. No one suspected the story—I had learned to limp convincingly before I returned home. And I made sure the first person to hear of my accident was a reporter I knew well. Then I traveled to the hospital. They had pushed your grandfather outside in his wheelchair. There was a cane on the ground by his wheelchair. I took a deep breath, leaned on my cane and limped to him. ”

By now I had forgotten about the pie and listened to grandma, mesmerized. “What happened then?” I hurried her when she took her time eating some pie.

“I told him he was not the only one who had lost a leg, even if mine was still attached to me. I showed him newspaper clippings of my accident. ‘So if you think I’m going to let you feel sorry for yourself for the rest of your life, think again. There is a whole life waiting for us out there! I don’t intend to be sorry for myself. But I have enough on my plate as it is, so you’d better snap out of it too. And I am not going to carry you-you are going to walk yourself.’” Grandma giggled, a surprisingly girlish sound coming from an old lady with white hair.

“I limped a few steps toward him and showed him what I’d taken out of my pocket. ‘Now show me you are still a man,’ I said, ‘I won’t ask again.’ He bent to take his cane from the ground and struggled out of that wheelchair. I could see he had not done it before, because he almost fell on his face, having only one leg. But I was not going to help. And so he managed it on his own and walked to me and never sat in a wheelchair again in his life.”

“What did you show him?” I had to know. Grandma looked at me and grinned. “Two engagement rings, of course. I had bought them the day after he left for the war and I was not going to waste them on any other man.”

I looked at the drawing on the kitchen wall, sketched by my grandfather’s hand so many years before. The picture became distorted as tears filled my eyes. “You are my Joy. I love you with my life.” I murmured quietly. The young woman in the drawing sat on her park bench and with twinkling eyes smiled broadly at me, an engagement ring carefully drawn on her finger.



Dionysus legend

The Greek myth of Ariadne offers hope to all who have felt the sting of love rejected. It tells of triumph after defeat, of sweetest success after the harshest sorrow.

Princess Ariadne, daughter of King Minos of Crete, helped Theseus slay her monstrous half-brother, known as the Minotaur, by teaching him to use a golden thread as a path within the labyrinth where the Minotaur lived. Deep within that dark maze where no man or woman had ever survived the Minotaur’s savagery, Theseus killed the monster, then followed the gold thread to freedom. When he emerged triumphant from the labyrinth, Theseus claimed Ariadne for his own. They escaped from Crete upon a waiting ship, running from crowds of citizens angered by Theseus’s murder of their half-bull,half-human prince.

As they sailed the world, Ariadne was certain she had won the heart of the hero in return for her brilliance, her loyalty, and her love. After all, she had betrayed those closest to her to save Theseus. When Theseus finally brought their ship to the faraway island of Naxos, Ariadne thought they would live there forever in bliss. Instead, he abandoned her upon the island, sailing off without an apology. Such was her thanks for saving him.

Alone, Ariadne forgot her triumph as the untangler of the labyrinth. She was Ariadne the forsaken, Ariadne the foolish, rather than Ariadne the beloved of Theseus. At first, the heartbroken princess wept. Then she thought of killing herself out of shame and sorrow. But the Muses took pity upon Ariadne. They hovered around the poor girl as soft as winds, and whispered into her ear of a worthier love and a loftier fate. This made no sense to the girl, for she could not see beyond her abandonment by Theseus.

But soon Ariadne saw a bronze chariot appear on the horizon. The Muses whispered it held a new bridegroom for Ariadne, the man she was fated to love. As the chariot drew closer, Ariadne saw it was draped in vines and clusters of ripe grapes--for this chariot was driven by Dionysus, god of divine intoxication, who loved Ariadne for her passionate bravery and loyalty.

Ariadne’s heart was immediately healed by Dionysus’s admiration and loving embrace. She soon forgot about Theseus and accepted her happy fate. Dionysus and Ariadne were wed. Made a goddess by love, Ariadne lived forever with her immortal husband in ecstatic triumph.