It was the 1960’s, and France was flourishing. Their economic growth was, on the rise, as the French had a great boost in their economy. Throughout the past several decades France had become increasingly powerful. In fact, during this period, they would succumb to the largest population of their nearby European allies, as their cities grew and they became wealthy. The French are commonly thought to be snobbish, by the accounts from those who wander the streets with maps and questions. The truth is- they like to enjoy life and having Americas peddling around their streets, as they ask residents for guidance to tourist landmarks- it would wear on the occupants- much like it would any flourishing city that wanted to exist peacefully. The French believe in moderation, and they also believe that life should be taken with strides. They are not accustomed to working endlessly- like Americans- No, they found relaxation was essential to a healthy and happy life. They worked hard and played hard.
At this juncture in time, a French citizen named Clara was frequently writing her pen-pal in the United States. Letters came almost daily as she began to fall in love with this American. In this period writing was the prime method of communications, and the romantic letters they exchanged made Clara’s heartbeat with an infatuation she had never known. The fact was- she had never felt more passionately about a man. She sent him a letter each day, and although, at first she had reservations- when she read his romantically penned letters - it soothed her, and she could not help but let a dimly lit smile rest upon her face. He was an amazing man- they had a connection.
Of course, her friends tried to dissuade her from what they thought was a romantic illusion and frequently tried to set her up with gentlemen that had substance and passion- men that she would appreciate. However, she did not take favorably to the idea for a reason you will soon understand.
The last letter she received from the American- Peter:
My Love Clara,
I love reading your letters- your words are beautiful, and in the past six months of exchanging our heartbeats, I find every brush stroke of your pen intoxicating. Reading your letters is the highlight of my day. I want to meet you- With every letter that you send my heart longs for you even more, and throughout the months I feel as if I know more than just you- I can feel the deepness of your soul. I will be arriving in France in one week, and I cannot wait to see you. You give me a reason to breathe. The letters you send me creates a longing in my heart- I wish for more- I want to hold you in my arms, and let you rest your head on my lap while we talk. I feel as if I have known you my entire life, and I have never said this before- But I am in love- true love. My heart beats a rhythm that I have never felt before. We have gone six months sending letters back and forth, and I must meet you. I want to profess my love to you- I dare venture to say something that I have felt for months now- I feel that our souls are akin to one another. You have a beautiful mind and the letters you send are intoxicatingly beautiful.
Clara read this letter several times, and each time she re-read it, she felt both secure and equally infatuated with Peter. She had grave reservations upon meeting him because the physical factor would be an issue. She wanted him to love her for the relationship they had forged over the months. She wrote him back and detailed where she was going to meet him. If Peter were truly in love with her- he would see beyond the physical aspects and love her for who she was. She hoped that he would set the issue of the physical side, and instead, he would find her just as breathtaking- regardless of her appearance.
She wrote Travis back and told him to look for the women wearing the red rose. In fact, she gave him detailed instructions on where they were to meet- she would be on a bench overlooking the ocean. Yes, she was nervous. People are infatuated with looks, and honestly- she had no idea if his interests extended beyond the connection they had- and into the physical.
It was summertime, and it was moderately hot, but she was to meet him in a coastal community where the bashful wind helped keep the heat tolerable as the ocean hurled a steady breeze that carried across the open walkway.
Clara approached a woman on the street. “Miss, I was wondering if you would wear this rose and sit on the bench. I am expecting a gentlemen to show and when he comes to you- lead him over to me. I will be in the near distance. I will be happy to pay you for your troubles, and the women eagerly took the money, placed the rose on her shirt and sat while she awaited Clara’s love. Clara chose a woman that was hefty, had a drooping chin, and unfavorable eyes- as she squinted through them- almost as if she was peering into the distance or into a bright light. Her lips were thin, her hair stringy, and even her smile was showed an unflattering pair of teeth. Claire had a plan.
Clara waited on the bench for 45 minutes, while she looked onward with a somewhat heartbroken gaze, and as the time progressed, she was becoming depressed as she realized that he probably saw the women on the bench and left. Had he been interested in more than her soul? Was he willing to throw away the connection the two of them had forged over the months over physical attraction? And as she began to get up and vanish back into the town- devastated- and heartbroken, a man approached the lady with the red rose pinned on her shirt as she sat on the bench.
“Hello, I am Peter, and I have looked forward to this moment for a long time.” He told the women. His eyes were big and round, and they alone showed warmth and love, but what held the most warmth were not his ravishing eyes but the infatuated smile that stretched across his face- a smile that was giddy with joy.
The women wearing the rose said, “Actually, follow me- I want to bring you to the women you are looking for.” Peter was confused and followed her to the bench that Claire sat. She smiled widely and got up she hugged Peter, her arms wrapping tightly around him as she pressed his body against his.
The truth was- Claire was a gorgeous woman. She had beautiful hair that fell to her shoulders and a slightly narrow face with dazzling eyes and the cutest nose. Her eyelashes added to the beauty of her bluish-green eyes and her smile melted Travis’s heart.
Claire concocted this plan to ensure that Peter would love her for than her looks. She had many relationships with suitors that found favor with her physical attraction. She wanted to make sure that the man in those letters was a genuine man- And would love her even if she was not attractive. It was now genuinely apparent to her that their relationship constructed on intimacy and love. Yes, the two lovers were truly head over heels for each other. Claire finally let go of Peter and peered into his handsome face. His letters were from his heart- He loved her- he truly loved her.
