One sailor had been at sea for several years. And all this time he received letters from a certain woman named Rose. They were from the same small town, but they didn’t know each other because they communicated only by letters. Their correspondence began by accident - her first letter mistakenly went to the wrong addressee. Out of politeness, he wrote her a reply. A spark immediately flared up between them, as if two kindred spirits had met.
When his voyage came to an end, they agreed that she would meet him on the shore. “You will easily recognize me,” she wrote, “there will be a red rose in my hands.” The sailor was looking forward to the appointed meeting. But at the same time, I was very worried. He had no idea what his chosen one would be like. And so he stands on the deck of the ship and peers into the faces of the people he meets. And he noticed a woman with a red rose in her hands. She turned out to be an elderly lady, about sixty years old. “God, she’s old enough to be my mother!” The first thought was to run away somewhere. Stay away! Don't confess! “She doesn’t know what I look like, I can easily pass unnoticed!” But then he remembered all the letters she wrote to him. How much warmth, how many tender words there were in them. He plucked up courage and approached this woman: “Hello,” he said in a voice trembling with excitement. - I’m very glad to meet you, Rose! The woman smiled and answered: “Hello, I’m very glad too!” But I'm not Rose. She turned around: standing behind her was a beautiful young girl. -I'm very happy! Rose is me. And she explained to the sailor that she specifically asked this elderly lady to hold a rose in her hands. Because I was afraid to make a mistake too!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru