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Presque Isle

Posted Sep 11 2009 2:12pm

About 11 years ago, about this same time of the year, a divorced man took a divorced woman and a carload of kids to Presque Isle. The kids scampered along the beach ahead looking for shells and beach glass, and the quiet man said to the woman that he wanted to be married. The woman was having no truck with that. She was lonely, and having a rough time of it, but the last thing that she needed was a husband. Good Lord! I'm afraid the divorced woman was rather empathetic about the fact that she was not going marry again. Not ever. Ever, ever, ever. (She felt that she really had to make it clear to this divorced man, who had, after all, asked this question before...let he who has ears hear, dammit.)
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The divorced man got very quiet, and then reached down and picked up a stone and put it in his pocket. He cleared his throat, and said, "Well, God is telling me that I am to be your rock. If that's all I can ever be, that's how it will have to be."
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He walked on without noticing that the woman had stopped dead in her tracks with her mouth open in shock. It had been a hard couple of years being on her own with the kids. The worst part was the loneliness of it. There was no one to talk to. The situation could not be discussed with her family. Her mother said things like, "You made your bed..." and her father had said, "You contaminate this family with your filth." She had been muddling along, and praying in the quiet of the night, "Please God. Just send me someone that I can talk to. Nothing more. I just need a rock."
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Even with the miracle right in front of her face, the woman was still lacking in the faith department. It took a few more months to say yes.
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Today we went back to Presque Isle. It was windy, windy, windy. The cold wind felt refreshing on my hot face. It just seemed so big. And embarassingly, I found myself crying at the bigness of it. And 11 years later, my husband reached out to hold my hand.
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