merciful love

The crying was so unexpectedly hard, since it was on a story. Fiction. But it touched me. Or maybe I am just being too emotional, and it was ages since I last cried. I am not sure, but it does not matter as it, in my opinion, one of the more compelling story of love that I have read so far.

It is not your usual boy meets girl love story, but story of a lady and how she loved a boy as her own, how she wished with her whole heart and did her best to help to give an alternative to Boy of a better education and love-filled home. She watched her efforts being scorned and realized her plans being thwarted by the boy's selfish mother, coming to accept the terms that she will forever not be successful in her attempts. But she continues to love the boy just the same, wishing the best for him, wondering how his conditions are, all the while, helping others.

The climax to the ending was just so touching, that I could not help but cry. Love knows no bounds, and limit. When you love someone, what they did, however outrageous and hurtful it is to you, you still help to protect them, to put them off trouble, if you could, even if it caused you great misery. It was such a selfless act, to protect without question, what she did, shielding her Boy. We never know when a good kind act will be the turning point for someone to towards a better conscience and honest and objective living. It might just be the lifeline that they were unconsciously looking for.

"A sense of freedom came over him, - he had shaken himself out of a net of crime before it was too late - and it was the beautiful, merciful, angelic spirit of his childhood's friend, Miss Letty, that had saved him! When she had the power to ruin him she had rescued him, - and for this, he resolved to prove himself worthy of her clemency!"

[ Corelli, M. (1952). Boy A Sketch, Great Britain : Hutchinson & co. ]

The ending was just apt, although I can not help but wonder how one can handle so many deaths in a space of a few hours. Loss of a good friend, loss of the love of your life, and the loss of the love of your life's apple, which had became, one way or the other, your's too. I grieved for him, the kind man which had shielded the pure memory of his unattainable love, the compassionate lady who loved Boy, and wished his strength would prevail. I can only hope, as the story ended after the mentioned of that many deaths.

We maybe to able to always choose the circumstances in our lives. But we can choose how to react to them. That's the freedom given to us. My eyes are still a little red and puffy, although I had splashed a good 5minutes of cold water on them.