"Did you have children?" I asked.
"When the kids left the house, my wife and I would go on trips together, holding hands like we were young again. That's the beauty of it, you see. My love for her continued to grow as the years rolled on, Sure we fought, but love prevailed.”
"I don't know how to explain the love I felt towards my
wife." He said, shaking his head.
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"Lord knows how tough life can be." He
said, looking into my eyes.
He looked at my empty glass.
I felt the power of his words as I walked to my car. It struck me that the old man, who I assumed must have lost his wife years ago, still loved her with a passion. I was filled with sadness as I thought about how lonely he must be with only his lemonade and an occasional guest.
As I set out on the road again, I couldn't get the man out of my mind. Suddenly, I realized I hadn't paid him for the lemonade and so I turned the car around and drove back. As I approached the house, I saw a car in the driveway. I was surprised; someone else had stopped by.
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I walked over to the porch. The man was nowhere to be found. I bent to put the money on his chair and happened to glance in the window. And there was the old man, in the middle of the living room, slow dancing with his wife!
I shook my head as I finally understood. He hadn't lost her after all. She had only been gone for the afternoon.
It's been years since that incident, yet I still think of that man and his wife.
I hope to live the kind of life they lived and to pass our love on to my kids and grandchildren as they did. And, I hope to be a grandfather who can slow dance with his wife, knowing that indeed, there is no greater blessing than love.
By Justin R. Haskin
Lemonade and a Love Story Part 1 | 2
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