Hello Everyone!
As I sit in my lofted college dorm bed on this snowy and cold November night, I have some time to reflect on an event that happened quite a while ago.
Actually, in all reality, I don't really have the time; I'm trying to avoid studying for a test that I have at 8 am tomorrow. Is it healthy that I'm going to be up until 3 am because of the Catching Fire midnight premiere? Probably not, but it's worth it. I'm just deciding to use this abundance of "free time" also known as "study time" to write out this thought.
But anyway, back to the story I was going to tell. It was probably a month or two ago (honestly, at college time is weird and I don't remember how long ago things were). My friend and I went to a local bakery here because she wanted to take back some goods to her family. We were inside browsing and trying to decide what she should get. I happened to notice a pretty old gentleman at the cash register talking to the cashier. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but once I realized what they were talking about, I realized how sad and how sweet it was at the same time.
The old man shakily handed the woman of a newspaper clipping. I soon found out that the clipping he handed her was an obituary article. The woman carefully read the thin column and looked back up at the man. He looked down, then back up at her. He had a sadness in his eyes that you only see when you lose a loved one. The cashier consolingly said to the man, "This is your wife, isn't it?"
I had to turn around and hold back tears. This man had such a loving tone when he responded to her. "Yes, that's my beautiful wife. She died last week. We have four kids." It was almost like he was completely at peace with it. He was so proud to call that woman his wife. It was also so sad to see the pain and sadness behind his meager little smile.
The cashier just gently handed him back the newspaper clipping and he hastily took it and put it back into his shirt pocket, the corners peeking over the edge of his pocket just slightly. He put back on his flat cap and handed the cashier the money for his doughnut he was purchasing. She then said to him, "I'm very sorry for your loss, sir. I'm sure your children are just as beautiful as she was." His eyes lit up, he smiled a contented little grin, and picked up his brown paper sack and walked out of the bakery with his head held high.
I left the bakery with my friend just having so much respect for this man. It was amazing to see how much he adoringly loved, and always will love his wife.
I can only hope that I will experience a husband with an unfailing love such as his some day. It is truly something that is pure and beautiful.
