I Need You
“I don’t need ice cream. I need you.” So said an old, near dying man to a young woman with ice cream who had taken care of him.
Living in a rented apartment before, he offered her to stay with him. “Welcome home.” He wrote on the table with a flower in a vase when she came in. “This is your home,” the very old man said. His friends who visited him in the hospital, asked him who she was. He said “she is my wife” though they were never married.
That must be the highest honor, the greatest reward for a woman when a man could speak something like that. I imagine him, needing her love as the sun, even more than heaven.
August 2011
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