Short Stories
It was a cold winter day. Myra walked down the long stretch of road in silence. There were houses on either side of the lane. A few people huddled in their overcoats walked around briskly, apparently in a hurry to reach the warm hearth of their homes. As she walked, her mind went back to the events of the previous week. She had coincidentally bumped into a relative whom she had not met in years. But, she would not call it coincidence because she believed in her heart that nothing happened by sheer luck or chance. It was God’s will and plan without fail.
As she and her relative had preceded to catch up on old memories and former times, he had mentioned out of the blue about an incident which had happened a very long time ago involving her uncle who had been an army martyr. This relative had apparently been very close to him and had recounted on how he had been the first one to rush to the spot the day tragedy struck. Myra had been always fascinated to hear from her mother about the heroic feats of this beloved uncle since her childhood and her mother’s nostalgic remembrance on how her home had been filled with the fragrance of fresh flowers for a month after his demise even in the absence of flowers.
Returning to the present, the reason Myra was walking down this road was due to a revelation divulged by this relative on how he had been the only one who knew of a lady whom her uncle had loved secretly and who had also loved him fervently in return. She had obviously been shattered by his passing away. This lady never settled down in life and had remained faithful to the memory of her beloved.
The moment Myra had learnt of this astonishing discovery, she had taken it upon herself to look up this lady living in obscurity for so many years. She had now reached the far end of the road. The house she was looking for was right in front of her eyes. She walked slowly to the gate, her heart beating in anticipation. She opened the gate, walked towards the front door and rang the bell, her fingers literally shivering in excitement.
It seemed ages before the door opened softly. A frail looking woman stood in front of Myra. But, Myra wasn’t really looking at the woman, she was seeing the face of her uncle in the love that was etched in every feature of this woman’s face, her deep brown eyes looked questioningly at Myra.
Myra somehow regained her composure and introduced herself. The woman immediately froze. Her eyes welled with tears. Myra could not contain herself, she rushed and embraced the woman., who now seemed to be shaking uncontrollably, the tears pouring out, all her pent up emotions that she had safely guarded spilled over. Myra allowed her to unburden herself, she was here after all on behalf of her uncle, to hold his love on behalf of him, to comfort and console her. Time seemed to stand still.
Later, the woman led Myra by the hand into her home which was decked with pictures of her late Uncle, wherever she looked. The woman opened a box in which she had stored the treasures of her heart; letters and mementos given to her by her beloved.
Myra knew in her heart that though this woman and her uncle had never walked down the aisle, they had been very much one soul in two bodies. Her uncle was still living in the spirit of this lady. She was determined that this lady should get all the due respect and honor as she would have got had she been her aunt, an acceptance into Myra’s family so that this woman would never ever feel that she was alone in the world but that she had the love of the family of her own beloved.
Myra spent the entire evening listening attentively to every word, the words of remembrance, the last farewell, how every word of the love professed to this woman was recorded in her heart down the years, the anguish at what had remained incomplete, the day the tragedy struck and how her world had collapsed, how she had yearned down the years to ask him back from the heavens. Myra could not help wondering whether God had come in the presence of this lady or this woman had taken on the presence of God. After all, where there is love, there is God.
When the time came to bid farewell, Myra left but not without first promising to return often and keeping in regular touch. She also pledged to get her extended family to call in and assist in every possible way. She knew in her heart what this visit had meant to both of them.
As she stepped out into the open, Myra looked up at the sky. It was sunset time. The sky itself looked joyful standing out in colors of union. The sign that her eyes longed to see was clearly evident. Two clouds merging into each other. Reconciled at last.
It was all God’s work. None of this could be credited to her. All the honor and all the glory belonged to the one on the throne.
Myra had to concede that this was a Gem of a love, jeweled by the very hand of God.
Maria Franco
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