This is it!!!!!!
The end.
I mean...um...well, you have to read it first. Then I can write "the end."
(Although if you need to read the beginning first, you can do so by clicking here.)
Hand trembling, Rebekah raised the mirror to her face and looked in. The painted man’s words filled her head, and the shriveled flower filled her eyes. But another voice whispered into her heart. The voice that wanted to be a flower on the hillside, dancing in the wind. The voice that said she was a flower, that she was precious. That she was wanted, just as she was. Rebekah concentrated on that voice for a moment. And the flower in the mirror grew. Its brilliant white petals spread their wings and flew out of the reflection and into her heart.
The end.
I mean...um...well, you have to read it first. Then I can write "the end."
(Although if you need to read the beginning first, you can do so by clicking here.)
Hand trembling, Rebekah raised the mirror to her face and looked in. The painted man’s words filled her head, and the shriveled flower filled her eyes. But another voice whispered into her heart. The voice that wanted to be a flower on the hillside, dancing in the wind. The voice that said she was a flower, that she was precious. That she was wanted, just as she was. Rebekah concentrated on that voice for a moment. And the flower in the mirror grew. Its brilliant white petals spread their wings and flew out of the reflection and into her heart.
It was Charlie’s
voice she heard. Charlie’s voice assuring her that it was worth the risk. Where
had this man come from? This man who searched for her when she disappeared. A
man who came after her, even after seeing the failure she became. A man who
cared for her enough to give in to her will, instead of forcing her to live a
life she didn’t want.
She looked
deeply at the white rose in the mirror. She saw her reflection, and she knew
who she was. Confidence in her dreams filled her soul. But then she looked past
herself. She looked for the people whose lives were touched by the white rose.
She thought of how they must feel and what they must want. And she decided what
to do. Life was not meant to be lived alone, after all.
“I am going
home to my mother,” Rebekah stated. “Because I love her and I need to reconcile
with her. But,” she smiled at Charlie. “I want to care about more than just
myself. I want to encourage people, so they do not feel as desperate as I
felt.” She looked at the three beaming children. “I want to be able to care for
Lucas and Collin and Polly. I want them to know that they are, and always will
be, loved.” She paused for a moment, taking in the grandeur of what she had
just said.
“I want to
learn how to love. To put somebody else before myself. To care for them, even
when I’ve lost the hope to care for myself. To pour out myself as a drink
offering, and see the other flowers grow! I need to learn to love.”
The room
remained quiet for a moment. Then the gremlin spoke up, more seriously than
anyone had ever heard him before.
“That is what ‘Love’ is,” he said. “All I
am is ‘Lust,’ but that, that is ‘Love.’” He turned to the painted man. “And you
sir, do not understand what love is. All you can do is lust after what you
want; you pay no heed to anyone else’s needs.”
The painted
man shifted on his feet, not sure how to take that.
“You are
exactly the kind of person I need to serve me!” the gremlin giggled. “Come
along boy, we have a deal to keep.” He disappeared in a puff of smoke, which
started to spread and surround the painted man. He backed away, terrified of
the blackness, but the smoke shrouded him and covered him from sight. As it
slowly dissipated, there was nothing left of the painted man to be seen.
The
children blinked. Rebekah breathed deeply. Charlie looked to her, then to where
the painted man had just stood. Outside in the doorway, the short man groaned.
Nobody said a word.
After a
while, Rebekah spoke up, “Maybe we should take him home,” she motioned to the
short man.
Charlie
shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t believe the girl would be so caring
toward someone who had just been hunting her.
“Rebekah?”
he said softly. She turned to look at him. Charlie swallowed.
“You, Rebekah, you are beautiful. You are
special. You have something amazing
to offer the world. You have big dreams, and I admire that. I respect your
dreams, and I want to help you achieve those.” he smiled at her.
“And you, Charlie,” she answered back. “You are an amazing man. You risked your
life for me. You have shown me what true love really is. It is not heart
pounding emotions. It is giving up your emotions, your wants, your desires, for
the other person. You have shown me true love, Charlie, and I truly love you.”
He grabbed
her hands and pulled her closer. “Come here, beautiful,” he whispered. And
although love is not simply flitting butterflies in your stomach, they went
flying up anyway as he drew Rebekah into him and pressed his lips to hers. The
children in the corner shrieked.
“Ewwwwww!”
they cried together. But Polly secretly hoped it would happen to her one day.
The
children returned to Mrs. Peers, despite their best protests. But Rebekah
encouraged them to see her as somebody special, and to treat her that way, too.
Surprisingly, they found that after a while, they did think of Mrs. Peers as
somebody special. And after a while, Mrs. Peers seemed to think of them as
somebody special, too. But a few years later, they said goodbye to her and went
to live with Charlie and Rebekah, who had been married two years earlier.
Rebekah had moved out of her mother’s house to live with her husband, but she
did go to visit her often.
And every
night, after the children were in bed, Charlie and Rebekah strolled through the
rose garden in their backyard. On certain nights, when the moon was bright, the
ocean of white reflected the light and cast a soft glow onto the lovers’ faces.
They looked into each other’s eyes and saw themselves for who they truly were:
beautiful, valuable, loved.
The end.
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