Part 4. A Valentine Story.

Keywords. correspond, romance, first meeting, red rose, test, wisdom.

Vocabulary. intrigue, insightful, budding, lapel, provocative, tuck, plump, thrust, uphold, grip, square, salute.

A. Listen to the first part of a Valentine story, then write an ending for the story.

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened in his army uniform, and studied the crowed of people making their way through Grand Central Station.

He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn't, the girl with the rose.

His interest in her had begun 13 months before in a Florida library.

Taking a book off the shelf, he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin.

The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind.

In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner's name, Miss Hollis Maynell.

With time and effort, he located her address, she lived in New York city.

He wrote her a letter, introducing himself and inviting her to correspond.

The next day, he was shipped overseas for service in World War Ⅱ.

During the next year and one month, the two grew to know each other through the mail.

Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart.

A romance was budding.

Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused.

She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn't matter what she looked like.

When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting, 7:00 pm at Grand Central Station in New York.

"You will recognize me", she wrote, "by the red rose I'll be wearing on my lapel."

So at 7:00, he was in the station, looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he'd never seen.

I'll let Mr Blanchard tell you what happened.

A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim.

Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears.

Her eyes were as blue flowers.

Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness.

And in her pale green suit, she was like spring time to coming alive.

I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose.

As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.

"Going my way, sailor?" she murmured.

Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Meynell.

She was standing almost directly behind the girl.

A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat.

She was more than plump, her thick-ankle feet thrust into low-heeled shoes.

The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.

I felt as though I was split into two, so keen was my desire to follow her.

And yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld my own.

And there she stood, her pale plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle.

I did not hesitate.

My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her.

This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love.

B. Now listen to the last part of the story, fill in the blankets with words you hear and make a comparison between the ending you desired and the one you heard.

I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment.

"I'm Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell.

I'm so glad you could meet me, may I take you to dinner?"

The woman's face broadened into a tolerant smile.

"I don't know what this is about, son," she answered,

"But the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat, and she said if you were to ask me out to dinner,

I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street.

She said it was some kind of test." It's not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell's wisdom.