My Dearest Darling,
Months. Days. Minutes. All of these have flown by in quick succession...like the stampeding of a turtle clan. How I miss you. Like the leaves falling from the trees in Spring, I feel your nearness. The memory of our last meeting has not left my mind since--when was it?--last Autumn. How I miss you. I'll not rest until we meet again. Cost what it may, I will see you again. When shall it be, Darling? When will you return to see me? Do not delay answering, for I am so lonely without you. Your letters bring me such comfort. Emotionally. Physically it's a little hard. I tried to read your last letter in my "special place", and I fell and broke my arm. The doctor said my special place should be more suitable to a person of my age, so I have abandoned Our Tree Branch for lower ground. Which reminds me. I am so depressed without you. I think perhaps I shall die of a broken heart if you do not return soon from India. I would not even mind if you brought the wrong color sari back for me. I know I stressed 'red' to you before you left. I feel guilty now that I insisted on 'red' so strongly. After all, what matters if it is 'red' as long as you return with it? Or if you didn't return with it at all, although disappointed, I would forgive you! You could just pick it up on your next trip to the heathen land. How I miss you. My birthday is coming up. Write soon. Father says I'm getting too old to ignore all of the nice boys around town. I, of course, was insulted, and told Mother what he had said. She took care of it directly, so you needn't worry. I am still waiting for you. Mother is throwing me a special birthday party this year. All of your old friends are coming. How I miss you. I wish you could hear me sigh for you. Write to me soon.
Passionately,
Yours
6 comments:
You will no doubt ask me the remedy for these impure loves.
As soon as you sense the attack, however light it may be, be careful not to compromise witht he enemy in any way. Do not say: "I shall listen to him but not yield to him; I shall lend him my ear but refuse my heart." No! Quickly turn away from him, toward the Saviour's Cross, and make it your rampart and your protection.
For the love of God, Philothea, be unyielding on this point! The heart and the ear talk to one another, and so it is as impossible to keep words of love heard in the ear from descending to the heart as it is to stop a flooding torrent. Therefor, take care to close your ears to the music of these foolish words, or your heart will be quickly contaminated by them. Listen to no proposition, under any pretext whatever; only thus will there be no need to fear being uncivil.
Remember that you have given your heart to God. Once offered to Him, it would be a sacrilege to take away a single fiber. Rather, offer it to Him anew and, like a deer in its covert, call upon God. He will come to your assistance, and His love will take yours under its protection, enabling you to live solely for Him.
If you are already caught in the nets of these poor loves, it will be very difficult to extricate yourself. Place yourself in the presence of God and acknowledge your great misery, your weakness, your futility. With the greatest effort your heart is capable of, detest these loves that you have entered into. Renounce the promises made or received, and resolve with a great and absolute will no more to take part in these games and deeds of love.
I hope that you will be able to distance yourself from the object of this false love, because, once bitten by love, one will hardly be cured so long as the person who has suffered the same attack remains close. Distance is a great help for the lessening the torments and ardors of both sadness and love.
St. Ambrose recounts how, after a long voyage, a young man returned completely cured of his past follies. He was so transformed that when he met the woman he had loved, he did not recognize her. "What?" she asked him. "You do not know me? I am the same." "Yes", he replied, "but I am no longer the same." Absence had sufficed to bring about this happy transformation
What is all of this about, Tracy??
FOREMOST among the soul’s affections is love. Love is the ruler of every motion of the heart; drawing all to itself, and making us like to that we love. Beware, then, my daughter, of harbouring any evil affection, or you too will become evil. And friendship is the most dangerous of all affections, because any other love may exist without much mental communication, but as friendship is founded thereon, it is hardly possible to be closely bound by its ties to any one without sharing in his qualities.
All love is not friendship, for one may love without any return, and friendship implies mutual love. Further, those who are bound by such affection must be conscious that it is reciprocal,—otherwise there may be love but not friendship; and moreover, there must be something communicated between the friends as a solid foundation of friendship.
Friendship varies according to these communications, and they vary according to that which people have to communicate. If men share false and vain things, their friendship will be false and vain; if that which is good and true, their friendship will be good and true, and the better that which is the staple of the bond, so much the better will the friendship be. That honey is best which is culled from the choicest flowers, and so friendship built upon the highest and purest intercommunion is the best. And just as a certain kind of honey brought from Pontus is poisonous, being made from aconite, so that those who eat it lose their senses, so the friendship which is based on unreal or evil grounds will itself be hollow and worthless.
Mere sensual intercourse is not worthy of the name of friendship; and were there nothing more in married love it would not deserve to bear the name; but inasmuch as that involves the participation of life, industry, possessions, affections, and an unalterable fidelity, marriage, when rightly understood, is a very real and holy friendship.
Whatever is founded on mere sensuality, vanity, or frivolity, is unworthy to be called friendship. I mean such attractions as are purely external; a sweet voice, personal beauty, and the cleverness or outward show which have great weight with some. You will often hear women and young people unhesitatingly decide that such an one is very delightful, very admirable, because he is good-looking, well-dressed, sings, or dances, or talks well. Even charlatans esteem the wittiest clown amongst them as their best man. But all these things are purely sensual, and the connections built on such foundation must be vain and frivolous, more fitly to be called trifling than friendship. They spring up chiefly among young people, who are easily fascinated by personal attractions, dress, and gossip—friendships in which the tailor and hairdresser have the chief part. How can such friendships be other than shortlived, melting away like snow wreaths in the sun!
Ah! And I see the light!
Yeah really, Tracy. Come on!
No use trying, Ginn. ;)
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