o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o o
o --= TRUE LOVE... IS OF A SPIRITUAL NATURE =-- o
o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
One Friday morning when Hank and I were on the bus...
I was in a very playful mood...
and I thought well why not...
let's ask Hank a question...
he'll never expect me to ask.
And here is the question....
Hank... what is Sex really all about...
I mean you know... the Force of Sex?
At first... Hank looked kind of funny...
then he sort of grinned... and looked at me.
Well... Muranda... he said...
I thought you meant sexual intercourse.
What you really mean is...
what is the Creative Impulse behind Sex... right?
Well... I hope... he said... that that is it.
For right now... anything else...
is somewhat awkward to explain on the bus.
Hank sort of giggled... and then he started to talk.
Naturally I was very surprised...
because I didn't really think...
that he would answer my question.
I figured I had him baffled.
Listen carefully... he said...
for there is more to it than you might expect.
Anyway... here is Hank.....
- - - - - - -
Sex and Breath Muranda...
are the Creative Forces of the Universe.
There is nothing Greater...
And that is why they should be honoured.
The Bible says... to honour your Father and Mother.
Well... this is all fine and dandy...
but what was meant... really...
were the Sex and Breath Forces.
Somehow... the Bible in earlier translations...
lost a couple of meanings here and there...
and the Church Fathers came up with...
this Father and Mother quote.
At one time I guess... it must have made sense to them...
but I think... that it is pure nonsense.
You see... your Father and Mother could be Thieves...
Murderers... Molesters... or worse.
Fathers and Mothers have been known to burn their children.
Definitely... and for sure...
this kind of people should not be honoured.
They should be loved... Yes. But not honoured!
Anyway... what is to be honoured...
are the Sex and Breath Forces.
These Forces... are the Physical Aspects...
of the Creative Forces of the Universe... or God.
Sex in the Earth Plane is the Physical Activity...
of the Creator in Divine Play.
It is the most beautiful play there is.
For Man... as well as animals.
Sex is an Expression of Love... and Love is God.
Man however... especially nowadays... thinks that Sex is Love.
Love and Sex... are two different things.
Love can include Sex honourably and beautifully.
But Sex does not necessarily have anything to do with Love.
And Sex for Sex-Sake is but releasing Energy.
The Sex Forces... are to be used intelligently and honourably.
Because the Human Form...
is the Vehicle of the Creator in Manifestation.
The Human Race... is the Expression of the Creator...
and the Scope of this Expression is unlimited in possibilities.
It is absolutely Superb... and Splendid.
The Expression of the Creator is an Expression of Love.
Man... is the Image of the Creator...
or a Self-Expression.
Sex... is the Creator in Action... or Divine Play...
Mankind however uses Sex as a gimmick...
and he confuses Sex with Love.
Sex confused with Love... is like a curse... it's deadly.
Sex has become so commercialized in our society...
that our Youth is totally confused.
Anyway Muranda...
I do not blame the World for what it is.
For being obsessed with Sex... is but a fad.
It's something that must be transcended.
You see... before Mankind can take on a Spiritual Revolution...
we have to become bored with Sex first.
This is but a matter of Time.
Mankind has to experience... that Sex for Sex-Sake...
is just as boring... as Money for Money's Sake.
Sex and Money are necessary Aspects of a Material Existence...
but we have made them the only Things worth while.
This will be corrected automatically in the Future...
because our interests and endeavours...
will be of a Spiritual Nature... rather than of a Material One.
In the future... all of Us will learn to appreciate...
the Spiritual Aspects of Ourselves.
Anyway Muranda... before I forget...
being Sex-Crazy... or Money-Hungry...
is not something wrong.
It is only a phase of our unlimited scope of Creativity...
that we came to experience and then transcend.
Naturally... this takes more than one lifetime.
The proper understanding of what we as Man are...
is just around the corner of the next Age.
We can almost grab it.
Before this happens however...
the Three Dimensional Expression of Mankind...
will be phased out as planned...
and many of us will leave the Body as agreed upon before.
This is in progress all around you.
Anyway... to sum it all up...
Sexual play as an Expression of Love... is God in Action.
But Sex... just for the hell of it...
is only Man keeping himself busy.
Please understand...
that one Phase of Life is not better than any other.
All Phases of Life are different manifestations...
for the Benefit of learning Creators.
And Love Muranda...
Love is more than a Physical Attraction.
TRUE LOVE... IS OF A SPIRITUAL NATURE.
However... there is a fine line...
between True Love... and what the ordinary man calls Love.
This line can only be recognized...
when you have transcended...
the sexual requirements or needs of the Human Body...
by conscious control... or by the transformation of Energies.
The World of Man is trying to find this line.
Anyway... within the Sphere of Love...
Sex is a fringe Benefit... and is equal to it.
Within this Sphere of Love... Sex is a Spiritual Action.
Then... it is Liberation and Godness Alive.
- - - - - - -
When Hank stopped talking... I looked around in the bus.
People were looking at us... and their expressions...
were between surprised and quizzical.
I'm sure they were straining their ears...
and they must have heard the word sex many times.
I don't think however...
that they heard the whole discussion.
I wish they could have.
Hank got up to leave the bus...
and before he did he turned around... and said...
have a good weekend Muranda... and see you Monday.
And then he said...
I'm still thinking about the Miracle...
what about you?
I smiled at him... and said...
so am I Hank... so am I...
see you Monday.
I winked... and he winked back... and then he got off the bus.
Outside... he looked at the sky... shrugged his shoulders...
started to whistle... looked back and waved.
I waved back but he could not see me...
because by that time...
the bus had pulled out from the curb.
Yeah... this Hank...
I thought that I had stumped him...
with my question about sex.
He did not even blush... or fumble.
I wondered whether there was anything at all...
that Hank couldn't talk about.
This Hank is a miracle... smart and beautiful.
And you know... I know it for sure now...
I love him.
I love him as a friend.
During the day... I thought about him often...
and when I did... I caught myself standing still...
as if I was in some kind of spell.
I looked like a smiling dummy.
Over the weekend I did some writing...
and pretty soon... I'll be all caught up.
The Whisperer worked wonderfully.
o o o o o o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o o
o --= A JESUS WEARING GREEN PLASTIC BAGS =-- o
o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
It's Thursday morning...
and I haven't seen Hank all week.
I certainly miss him.
When I think of him...
I get a funny feeling inside.
Now that he is not on the bus everyday...
there seems to be a hole somewhere.
It's deep inside of me.
Does that mean I love him?
I don't know... I just don't know.
Why does Hank have to be so different?
Why is he so strange... and so old?
I wondered what could have happened to Hank.
Why isn't he on the bus... why didn't he tell me.
What's wrong with him?
At one time... Hank told me...
that everybody is just another Jesus...
and on the way to Christhood.
Very few people... he said...
know that this is their Destination.
The end stop... is to be a Christ or Buddha.
I just keep wondering about that.
Could Hank be right?
And how does he know?
One morning Hank said... when you know...
that you are a Christ or Buddha in the making...
your Path of Evolution... is a Conscious Path.
And if you don't know your Potential State...
your Path of Evolution... is an Unconscious Path.
In other words... you are Unconscious of your Greatness.
To know... what Life is all about...
and consciously help yourself along a bit...
speeds up the process... he said.
However... he added... whether you know it or not...
all Human Beings are on a Path of Evolution...
that will bring them Home.
It's impossible to miss...
for we all have our Being... in the Mind of God.
This Mind is like a Perfect Safe...
and nothing will ever get lost or misplaced.
It's your own Mind... he said.
And then he added...
the Universe knows no Forgetfulness.
Anyway... this is the fourth day...
that Hank has not been on the bus.
The trouble is... I never gave him my phone number.
Where are you Hank? How come you're not on the bus?
And then I thought...
Muranda you have to stop all this nonsense.
You have to live your own life... Hank or no Hank.
However... my mind couldn't leave Hank alone.
He was all over it.
A couple of days after he told me...
to keep my notes straight...
I asked him... do you mind Hank... that I make notes?
Do whatever you feel like Muranda... he said...
make all the notes you want.
That's maybe...
why I talk to you in the first place.
I never talk about this stuff...
to people I'm not absolutely sure of.
I would be wasting my energy.
You see Muranda... he said...
when you think about it long enough...
you will find that everybody comes to Earth... to save himself.
And while I'm working on this...
the way I think I should... I talk to Beautiful Souls.
And you are one of them.
Beautiful Souls are the True Beauty of God.
They are the Flowers of Heaven.
Yeah... this Hank... I think about him often...
and I'm even kind of worried about him...
what could have happened?
Once... he said to me...
you're bound to think of me Muranda... you are Me.
To think that Hank is me...
is a bit far-fetched...
but you know... if we are all One Being...
Hank might be right.
I just can't see it... or feel it that way.
As a matter of fact...
I feel that I am separate and different from everybody else.
How could I possibly... be Hank...?
But you know...
what Hank feels... says... or thinks he knows...
is perfectly all right for Hank.
After all... Hank is Hank... and I am Me!
And another thing... I always want to be Me...
- - - - - - -
I haven't seen Hank for nine days.
It sure has been a long time... and to be honest...
I miss him... and I feel rotten
I feel an emptiness within.
Every morning I look for Hank...
but all I see is other people.
Nobody even looks like Hank.
It's lonely at the bus stop.
And in the bus...?
Well... all the people in the bus seem to be half dead.
Their heads only move when the bus stops.
For the rest of the time... they just sit there.
Some of them seem to play... I'm important.
Nobody knows the rules of the game and anything goes.
Some people play it with their face...
and others play it with newspapers or expensive briefcases.
The only thing that's in there...
is a lunch bag with an orange...
and on Mondays they bring a clean jogging suit.
People sure are funny...
I never noticed them like that before.
They seemed to be stuffed with an air of....
Look at me... I'm important.
In the bus you know... all these people look...
as if they own the building that swallows them.
I'll bet you... that in actuality...
they're barely two weeks ahead of their salary.
The funny thing is...
that in a way... I like all these bus mates.
Yet I think about them the way I do.
Is that criticism? Am I honest with myself?
Do I look to them... the way they look to me?
Do I look like a stuffed shirt or blouse...
with a faint ring around the collar?
I wondered about Hank again...
and why didn't he tell me?
I remembered the last time he left the bus...
that's when he said...
have a good weekend Muranda... and see you Monday.
I'm still thinking about the miracle...
what about you?
Yeah... that's what he said.
Well Hank... you're a miracle alright...
an invisible one... big deal.
Where are you Hank?
Are you sick?
Well... we'll see...
maybe he moved all of a sudden.
Maybe his landlord kicked him out.
You know... I even felt close to him...
maybe I even loved him.
Yeah... of all the stupid things...
I fall in Love... and the guy takes off.
Muranda... you're fantasizing...
stop your mind from fumbling...
and quit your negative thoughts.
I look around in the bus...
and right behind me are two guys talking politics.
The one guy talks... and the other makes noises.
All of a sudden then... the noise-maker says...
sure... interesting... well what do you know...
sure stupid isn't it.
Pretty soon he makes noises again.
The first guy talks and talks...
and for all I know...
the other guy has dozed of...
because the noises have quit all together.
The bus stops... and he hmms again.
None of these guys... sounds like Hank...
and what they talk about is pretty useless.
Why criticize the government?
If they really know so much...
why don't they get elected.
And then I say to myself...
Muranda... Muranda... just let them be.
They're just fine the way they are.
When I met Hank for the first time...
it was very early spring... and cold.
Now the trees are coming out...
and by golly... here and there I see narcissus.
They are beautiful.
Look at the sunlight Muranda...
it's shining through the trees...
and the tiny leaves are sparkling green.
Look at the clouds... way up there...
they're pure white and beautiful.
Some of them look like faces.
The weather is very unstable...
many parts of the country are flooded...
for the rivers are like oceans.
Other parts of the country are too dry.
Many farmers there did not get any snow at all this winter.
The climate is changing drastically.
Old volcanoes are acting up...
and there are earthquakes all over the world.
Thousands upon thousands of people...
live in make-shift dwellings.
The world is in a mess... and millions are dying.
I wonder what Hank does for a living.
Could he be in insurance... or consulting?
Maybe he works in shipping and receiving?
He might have his own business?
Well... whatever...
Hank can do anything... he's smart.
We're at Hank's stop now.
I look all over the sidewalks to find him.
People move like a herd... but quicker.
Hank is nowhere in sight.
Hank where are you?
Well... somehow I'll have to pull myself together.
Hank is a nut anyway... and way too old.
All his theories... and spirits... well...
all of it is not really me anyway... or is it?
What about my writing... and who's really doing it?
This Whisperer must be somebody.
Suppose Hank never shows up... do I still want to write?
Well... we'll see what happens.
The real question is... what do I write about... pulling teeth?
When I arrive at work...
people are coming in... to see the dentists.
One guy has been hurt... and his teeth are broken.
His face is full of pain...
yet... he tries to smile at me.
I set him in the chair...
and the doctor looks at him... he bleeds a lot.
The doctor gives him shots of novocain.
I wipe his forehead and touch his hand.
He hurts a lot and he feels lost...
he almost starts to cry.
He's big... yes... but he's small inside.
I smile at him... I like him... for I am small too.
I stay with him...
until the orthodontist comes back.
I stay close and touch his arm.
He feels more at ease...
the novocain is working.
I start my day with checking the appointments...
two or three patients have to be reminded by phone.
Before long... I have forgotten about Hank.
At lunch time I go for a walk...
I see lots of men... and boys... but no Hank.
There are some old dry leaves from last fall...
the wind blows them on the road.
When they roll across... they make a sound...
they tickle the pavement.
Slowly I walk back to the clinic.
I wonder... yeah... what is Life all about?
Is Life waiting for someone...?
That's ridiculous.
Back at the clinic...
the afternoon patients are coming in...
I know them all... and they know me.
The children come at four...
I like children.
I continue my day... and I feel... as if I'm homesick.
How come I feel so alone?
Life is tough.
- - - - - - -
In the evening I work on my writing...
and all the notes I had made...
and many of the things I remembered... are typed.
The first draft of my writing is just about completed.
And you know... it makes quite the little book.
I have never written anything before...
and I am happy with it.
I was born in West Germany...
and my parents moved to many countries...
I've been just about everywhere.
The English language is foreign to me...
and writing in English is a miracle.
I had to buy a dictionary.
Someday... I'll speak English like the best of them.
I'm a nurse and dental-assistant at the City Clinic.
I've been there for three years now.
I got my job by smiling a lot... and speaking very little.
One of the doctors told me once...
Muranda... your beautiful smile...
is worth a thousand words.
Smiles he said... are perfect communication...
and only people who can't smile... have to use words.
So smile your beautiful smiles.
Naturally... he is my favorite doctor.
He's a grandfather many times...
and everybody likes him.
The Whisperer and I...
become more and more acquainted with each other...
because my writing becomes easier and easier.
The words just come... I don't know how.
Sometimes I wonder...
if Michael is my Guide as well.
Maybe he is the Whisperer?
And then I think... Muranda... you're nuts.
You're worse than Hank.
Anyway... I write...
and how it comes about... is a miracle.
My mind wanders back to Hank.
You see... if he doesn't show up one of these days...
my writing project is shot.
What am I to write about... without him?
He seems to be my inspiration?
This Hank you know...
he'd better have a darn good reason...
if he ever shows up again.
What in heaven's name could have happened?
Why stay away like that?
Somehow... I thought that he was a friend...
but this is no way for a friend to behave.
Damn it Hank... why don't you show up...
and tell me all about it.
I wonder whether Hank goes with an earlier bus...
so tomorrow I will too... or maybe he goes later?
Anyway... I have to do something.
Why can't I read his thoughts... like he reads mine?
Yes... why not?
Am I in love with Hank?
If I'm not... why do I have so many questions?
I put my typewriter away...
turn out the lights... and go to the bathroom.
I comb my hair while I look in the mirror.
My hair is beautiful.
Naturally... I thought about Hank again. Good night Hank.
Muranda... you're crazier than you think.
It took a long time before I fell asleep.
I blamed the typing... but I knew it was Hank.
Michael... are you the Whisperer?
Good night Michael.
Maybe the bus driver knows something about Hank.
Sure... he knows when he gets on.
Anyway... I'll have to try an earlier bus.
Hank what is wrong...?
- - - - - - -
For two days I went with an earlier bus...
but Hank wasn't there.
And this morning... I am back at my regular time.
The bus driver smiles at me... and then he says...
well hello... where's your friend nowadays?
I tell him that I don't know.
He shrugs his shoulders...
and then he remarks jokingly...
maybe somebody threw him in the garbage.
I blush... and see Hank wearing his green bag...
with his head sticking out.
Boy... this Hank is a nut...
imagine... wearing green plastic bags.
And then to say...
that everybody is just another Jesus.
A JESUS WEARING GREEN PLASTIC BAGS.
Really now... this Hank is ridiculous.
Well... if Hank is so ridiculous...
why are you looking for him?
Well... whatever... I miss him.
The people in the bus look at me.
I bet you... they still remember Hank and me.
Well... what the hell... he's gone now anyway.
Maybe that's the way it should be...
at least he's got me reading this book.
Hank told me about it... and I bought it.
The book is about reincarnation...
and different planes of Consciousness.
It's about this person and his Soul...
the Soul talks and the person listens.
It's good... but crazy.
This talking Soul sounds like Hank.
If I ever see Hank again...
boy... oh boy... I'll sure be mad at him.
It's darn right inconsiderate...
to leave me hanging like this.
I guess that's how a girl knows...
when a guy doesn't give a damn.
Yeah... but I do... and that's the trouble.
Anyway... I'm on the bus by myself...
because Hank didn't show up.
It's Monday today... and I thought... well...
I thought that Hank would be there.
I look out the window... and don't see a thing.
My two politicians are sitting right in front of me...
and this time they're talking about football.
They're discussing the greatest Quarterback in the world.
He's a Goal-Getter.
Well... you know... the talker says...
he sure appears on TV a lot.
And he sure knows how to talk.
He almost talks better than he plays.
The listener sort of chuckles and uh huhs...
and the talker continues.
I think he's overrated to beat hell...
and he's certainly not worth the fortune they pay him.
For pete's sake man...
do you know what these guys make?
Yeah... the other guy falls in...
I think it's because the girls like him a lot.
He's a real Super-Stud.
When he smiles you know... some women just about faint.
My wife is crazy about this guy.
I listen for a while longer... but it bores me.
I don't even know who they're talking about.
Who is this Super-Stud?
I look out the window again...
and almost all the trees are green now.
The sunshine is beautiful and warm.
Quite a few people planted flowers.
The sun and the colours of the flowers make me smile.
The bus pulls up to Hank's stop...
I look on both sides of the street... but no Hank.
It's more than fourteen days now...
since I have seen Hank.
I miss him.
I also think... Muranda... you're crazy.
Yeah... crazier than you think.
Why wait for Hank?
Live without him!
I feel... that Life is mostly longing.
I walk to the clinic... and I feel disappointed...
as a matter of fact... I feel a lot worse.
My work makes the day pass...
but I am far from happy and have trouble smiling.
Why do I do this to myself?
o o o o o o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o o
o --= I LOOK AS IF I AM SOMEBODY =-- o
o o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
It's Tuesday morning and I'm late.
I come around the corner and the bus is waiting.
I run and get on.
I am the last person getting on...
and there... oh my gosh... there is Hank...
I blush... and blush... and my eyes are misty.
My heart is just pounding... and pounding...
and my eyes burst full of tears.
I'm absolutely beyond myself.
All I can say... is... oh Hank... oh Hank.
We make an attempt to hug each other...
and it works out kind of clumsy.
I can't see very well... my eyes are full of tears.
I wipe my tears... and shiver.
Hank looks fine!
He wears a shirt and tie...
polished shoes and a new suit.
Imagine... Hank in a suit!
I just don't know what to say...
I am lost... and then I laugh like crazy.
I still blush...
I need to blow my nose... and wipe my eyes again.
The tears keep coming.
I'm overjoyed... and I can't speak at all.
I just stand there... feeling stupid and elated.
I'm nervous... I try not to blush... and act cool...
it doesn't work.
I wipe my tears again... my heart is still pounding...
I look at Hank's face... and he winks.
Finally he speaks.....
- - - - - - -
Well Muranda... my girl...
you almost missed the bus.
You had me looking for you...
I had almost given up for today.
Anyway... it's sure good to see you.
Boy... oh boy... you look beautiful.
Your eyes are like twinkling stars.
It sure has been a long time...
and boy... did I ever miss you... terribly.
Am I ever glad to be back.
You know what happened...?
I was called away... down East...
I had to attend a seminar.
I had to leave all of a sudden...
somehow the official invitation got lost.
I didn't know your full name...
no phone number... no address...
and no time to come to the bus stop in the morning.
I was devastated!
I didn't know how to tell you...
I was in a hell of a bind.
I felt plain sick about the whole thing...
but there was nothing I could do.
I had no idea how I could reach you.
I'm very... very sorry... Muranda.
I had to leave on the Sunday...
after the Friday we had seen each other last.
Boy... I sure felt awful...!
Muranda... I hope you'll understand.
Boy... did I ever miss you.
How have you been?
And look... I see you bought the book.
Did you replace me with the book... did you miss me?
Boy... oh boy... you look good.
You're absolutely splendid Muranda.
Speak Muranda... speak to me!
- - - - - - -
Well... Hank...
I'm overcome with elation... I need time to recover.
I'm just overjoyed to see you again...
I missed you terribly... I felt awful.
Every day I looked for you...
and every day... I figured you would be back tomorrow.
You never showed up... and I thought I'd lost you.
To see you again is a shock...
and I think I know why.
I can't lie to you... because you would know anyway...
I missed you terribly... and please forgive my tears.
I cry... because I'm happy.
When you were gone...
I felt as if I was homesick...
I think... well... I don't know.
At first... I thought that you had moved...
and later on... I thought that you were sick...
and then... I didn't know what to think.
Now that I see you again...
I realize... how bad I felt.
Please forgive me... for being so emotional...
I was afraid... and I worried about you.
Anyway... I'm so glad you're back!
I feel good all over.
Hank... what happened...?
You're dressed up like a model.
Let's sit down... and talk...
come on Hank... let's sit down.
You're dressed beautifully...
you're really looking good.
Now come on Hank...
you must tell me everything.
Where do you live... where do you work...
where did you go... and why...
and what is your full name...
and what is your phone number?
And when did you get back?
Talk Hank... talk your head off.
Talk man... talk.
- - - - - - -
Well my boss... you know...
he phoned me on that Saturday morning...
and told me to show my face down East next Monday.
He had just been contacted...
and they asked him who was coming over.
They completely surprised him...
because the invitation to the seminar had not arrived.
Anyway... to cut a long story short...
I had to buy new suits... shirts... shoes...
and all kinds of other stuff...
in order to go down East.
You see... our main office... wanted to teach us new tricks.
And I was the one to attend...
I was the Chosen One.
Anyway... on that Saturday... I had to go shopping...
and I spent a fortune on garbage.
My boss had told me to dress up before... but I never did.
I didn't think it worthwhile sitting inside all day.
This time however... I had to... for sure.
My boss told me that it was impossible...
to show up... in garbage bags.
Anyway... look a me... I LOOK AS IF I AM SOMEBODY.
So... all preened up like a peacock...
on that Sunday.. I flew down East...
and for fourteen days...
I attended a seminar in Toronto.
We're supposed to implement all kinds of new things...
and somehow I was the one to learn how.
You see... we keep track of Elevator Safety Permits...
and the seminar I had to attend...
was about Computer Controlled Maintenance and Safety Control.
So... I followed the course... and now I'm an expert.
I'm responsible now...
for Elevator Safety and all kinds of other jazz.
Imagine... I'm promoted to top banana.
Anyway... because of all this...
I have to go away more often...
and that's why I'm dressed up like a model.
My outfits carry the weight of the World.
Wait until you see my umbrella... Muranda...
it's the size of a parachute.
The whole thing is a gas!
But look at you...
You look ravishing... absolutely beautiful.
I can't tell you how concerned I was...
I had trouble following the seminar.
My mind was with you.
You know... I'm so glad to see you...
I feel as if I'm going nuts.
How is your writing... does it still make you feel good?
Did you read that book?
Well... you don't have to tell me...
the answers are all over your face...
it's radiating Joy.
Muranda... you're so beautiful!
Your smile is like the Pleasure of a thousand Gods...
wrapped up in a beautiful face...
radiating Love.
But now Muranda... before anything else...
please give me your full name and number.
I wouldn't be able to survive another ordeal...
like I went through the last fourteen days.
You see... I will have to go away more often.
Oh thank you... your name is beautiful...
- Muranda Ellen Everson -
My full name is Hank Freeborn... and here is my number.
You know Muranda...
knowing how to reach you...
is the most beautiful thing in the world.
I should have asked you your name before...
but you know... I didn't want to be nosy.
I've thought about you a least a million times.
Anyway... it was a good test...
but awfully painful.
I have to leave the bus Muranda... I'm a stop too far already.
Have a splendid day.
Do you still remember the Miracle?
- - - - - - -
I nodded my head up and down... and said...
I sure do Hank... I sure do.
And then Hank left the bus... and started waving.
Three or four times he looked back...
and finally he waited until the bus was out of sight.
He was like a little boy...
who had outdone himself.
I knew for sure about Hank now...
I loved him all right...
I loved him for all he's worth.
I almost blurted it out... but I just stopped in time.
When the time is right...
I will tell him my true feelings.
Feelings of the Heart are hard to keep.
All day... my Body was "Light in Motion"... radiating Goodness.
I felt sky high... and my soul felt jubilant.
Why didn't I tell Hank... that I loved him.
I guess... I must be chicken.
o o o o o o o