first segment

The test of true love

The digital clock above the information desk of Grand Central Station shows that it is six minutes to six. John? Branford is a tall young officer. He is staring at the clock to see the exact time. Six minutes later, he will meet a woman who has occupied a special place in his life in the past 13 months, a woman he has never met, but has been giving him strength through letters.

Shortly after he volunteered to join the army, he received a book from this lady. Along with the book came a letter wishing him courage and peace. He found that many of his friends who joined the army also got the name Hollis? A woman in Mignel sent the same book. Everyone got courage from it and thanked her for supporting the cause they were fighting for, but only he wrote back to Mignel. He received her reply on the day he left for overseas battlefield. Standing on the deck of the cargo ship that was about to take him into enemy territory, he read her letter over and over again.

13 months, she wrote to him faithfully. Even without his reply, she wrote to him as always, never decreasing. In those hard days of fighting, her letter encouraged and gave him strength. After receiving her letter, he felt as if he could survive. After a while, he believed that they loved each other, as if fate had brought them together.

But when he asked her for photos, she politely refused. She explained, "If your feelings for me are true and sincere, what does it matter what I look like?"? If I am beautiful, I will always be troubled, because I think you only love my beauty. That kind of love will disgust me. If I am plain, I will always be afraid that you will write to me just out of loneliness and have no other choice. Anyway, I will stop myself from loving you. When you come to see me in new york, you can make your own decision. Remember, at that time, we were both free to choose to stop or continue-if that was our choice ... "

It's one minute to six ... branford's heart is pounding.

A young woman came up to him and he immediately felt the connection between himself and her. She is slender and slender, with beautiful long blond hair curled behind her small ears. Her eyes are like blue flowers, and there is a gentle firmness between her lips. She is wearing a unique green suit, full of spring-like vitality.

He greeted her, completely forgetting that she was not wearing roses. Seeing him coming, a warm smile appeared on her lips.

"Soldier, come with me?" She asked.

He involuntarily took a step closer to her. Then, he saw Hollis? Mignel.

She is standing behind the girl, a woman in her forties with gray hair. In his young eyes, Mignel is simply a living fossil. She is not generally fat, and her clumsy legs stagger. But she wears a red rose on her brown coat.

The girl in green quickly passed by and disappeared into the fog. Branford felt as if his heart had been compressed into a small cement ball. He wants to follow that girl, but he deeply yearns for the woman who really accompanies him and brings him warmth. She stood there. Now he can see that her pale and fat face is full of kindness and wisdom. Her gray eyes sparkled with warmth and kindness.

Branford resisted the impulse to follow the young woman, though it was not easy. He took the book she sent him before he went to war, so that Hollis could? Mignel recognized him. This will not become love, but it will become a precious thing, something more unusual than love-a friendship that he has always been grateful for and will continue to be grateful for.

He showed the book to the woman.

"I'm John? Branford, are you-are you Hollis? Mignel, right? I'm glad you came to see me. May I invite you to dinner? " The woman smiled. "I don't know what happened, son," she answered. "The young lady in the green suit-the one who just walked by-asked me to pin this rose on her skirt. She said that if you invited me out with you, I would tell you that she was waiting for you in that big hotel near expressway. She said it was a test. "

Section b

Love under Nazi rule

1942 One day in winter, it was freezing. But in Nazi concentration camps, this is no different from other days. Since I was taken away from home and brought here with tens of thousands of Jews, I am on the verge of death and can only live day by day, hour by hour. We suffered under the terrible whipping of the Nazis.

Will I be alive tomorrow? Will I be taken to the gas chamber tonight? Or was the guard just killed by a rifle?

I paced back and forth on the barbed wire. I didn't pay attention to my steps, just moved mechanically on the ground. When I find a small piece of wood or something that can be used to make a fire, I occasionally kneel down and have a look. Suddenly, I saw a little girl coming out of the barbed wire. She walked lightly, as if unaffected by gravity, like a fairy. She stopped and looked at me with sad eyes. Life in the concentration camp has damaged my health.

I want to take my eyes away, because I am sick and skinny, wearing rags and dirty clothes. I feel particularly ashamed to be looked at like this by a stranger, but I can't take my eyes off her.

Then she reached into her pocket and took out a red apple. Oh, I haven't seen such an apple for a long time! How shiny-more dazzling than any crystal! She looked around very carefully and immediately threw it over the iron fence. I picked it up and held it in my frozen hands. In this world full of death, this apple undoubtedly represents life, and her actions are the fruits of love. I looked up and caught a glimpse of the girl disappearing into the distance.

The next day, as if attracted by magnetism, I came to the place next to the barbed wire. I hope she appears again. Am I crazy? Of course it is. But here, I don't give up any tiny hope.

There she goes again. She brought me another apple and threw it over the barbed wire more accurately than last time. The apple flew over the barbed wire and landed right on my head. I held the apple in the air and held it high for her to see.

Her eyes sparkled.

We met in this way for the next seven months, and I got used to this apple meal, but it was all over soon. One day, I heard a terrible news: I will be taken to another concentration camp.

The next day, when I saw her again, my heart was broken and I could hardly speak, but I had to make it clear: "Don't bring me any more apples tomorrow," I told her, "I will be taken to another concentration camp. We will never meet again. " I turned and ran away from the barbed wire before I completely lost control. I really can't bear to look back. If I turn around, I know she will see my tears running down my cheeks.

The years passed. 1957 in the blink of an eye. I live in new york, and my living conditions are far from Nazi Germany. I'm in the business of installing and recycling aluminum fences. I made a small fortune. An insurance friend of mine advised me to have a blind date with one of his female friends. I reluctantly agreed. She was one of the good guys。 Her name is Roma. Like me, she is an immigrant, so at least we have something in common on this point.

"Were you exiled here during the war?" Roma asked softly in the thoughtful way that immigrants asked each other about those years.

"No, I'm in a concentration camp in Germany," I replied. I didn't say which concentration camp, nor did I say other details. This story is so boring because I have repeated it many times.

Roma's eyes showed a thoughtful look, as if remembering something painful and sweet.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked her.

"Well, I lived near a concentration camp when I was a child. There was a boy, a little prisoner, and I went to see him every day for a long time. I remember I often threw him apples. He will be very happy when I throw the apple over the barbed wire. "

My heart is pounding. I stared at her and asked, "Did that boy say to you one day,' Don't bring me apples tomorrow? Will I be taken to another concentration camp? "

"Yes, yes," Roma answered in a trembling voice. "But how do you know?"

I stood up from the table, hugged her and said, "Because I am that little boy, Roma."