A Love Story Essays

All of a sudden, I felt her sweaty fingers against my wrist. I looked down and saw her black, precious hands tying a strand of beads to my wrist. It was a bracelet made of black, sparkly beads and transparent beads, strung together by a piece of black string. She began to tell me that she prayed over the bracelet and for me, because I helped her and had formed a friendship with her. The words she spoke touched my heart deeply.

Life changed for us once again when a woman named Martha came into our lives. Martha was a retired geriatric nurse who worked part time as a home caregiver. With me preparing to head off to college several states away in the fall, Martha was hired to care for my mother. Though I was excited to get some time off from my usual responsibilities, I was anxious to allow someone else to care for the most important person in my life. It took me months to learn to trust her, but her sweet, confident demeanor and the exceptional way she cared for my mother finally won me over. After one exceptionally hard day tending to my mother, Martha found me crying. I poured my heart out to her, lamenting all the difficulties and stress in my life, and wondering at why God had chosen to give us this life instead of something easier. Martha had simply taken my hand and looked me firmly in the eye. She told me that God never gave us more than what we could handle. She assured me that my suffering would only help me in the long run, molding me into a stronger more capable

The journey that Richard and Mildred Loving took is important for history and for the future of civil rights in the United States. I recently watched the documentary The Loving Story and enjoyed the footage, pictures, and interviews of everyone involved in the Loving v. Virginia case. The documentary addressed the issue of interracial marriage in Virginia in 1967.

As for Linda, she wanted to keep in touch with me, but I wanted to be left alone. Along the road I ended going down, I did some horrible things. When I almost overdosed and was sent to the ER, Linda was the only one who I could call. She came right away and stayed with me and my daughter and I at the hospital. I can remember how scared I felt, the sound of injured people, the old and the young, all crying in pain. With every thing going on around us, Linda was my guardian angel. With her there, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Then people started to stare at me and ask questions., Mmy heart rate was racing, palms were sweating, knees were shaking, and my mouth was like a dry desert, devoidted offor taste and flavour. They asked “What is wrong with you?” and “What brought you to the ER?” I could hear murmurs coming from all directions questioning how stupid could I be having my daughter left at the hospital with me while i was all messed up, I could barely stand, let alone care for my daughter. I began to get nervous, scared, and worried, I was so on the edge of losing it, not only that I was on the verge of fainting. I could feel my anxiety kicking in,

Nearly two years ago, I, Kayla, met a woman about two and a half years older than me by the name of Shadaya. Me being a lesbian I had different intentions than just being close friends with her. After time goes by, our conversations grow into more important things. That’s when I realized she would be a good person to contact when in need of help, or advice towards any situation and problem. I was in my sophomore year of highschool, so I was still a little immature but I was growing into becoming a mature young adult. Shadaya and I had a rough journey, but we’re getting through it and growing.

As I kept talking to Mary (she insisted that I call her by her first name), I saw her more as a friend than as an elderly person. Our once shallow conversations turned into deep ones. She told me about the struggles she had to face as a woman pursuing higher level education and the tough decisions she had to make in her life. Mary helped me gain insights on life that changed my outlook on the world. I learned how to put my problems into perspective and realized that I unnecessarily stressed over little details. I also became more comfortable discussing topics that I used to avoid, like

Florence and Isabella were the most welcoming residents at the Mary Manning Walsh Home. Florence and I always played bingo with each other and would usually win. I would take her to her room telling her what it’s like at Xavier High School. Florence found it great that Xavier makes us do Christian Service and she recommends all of us to come to the Mary Manning Walsh Home. She stood out to me because she was always open. Florence made it easy to be open with her after she told her story about herself. She was so kind and always had a smile on her face even if she was going through hard times. Florence would always pray for me and I remember to pray for her. Isabella was another woman I had a deep connection with. I learned a lot from this woman because she taught me to be more thankful in life. She told me to pray every night and to see God in everything. Isabella and I would talk a lot about religion but we talked about colleges as well. Most of her family went to Villanova including her and she would tell me about her college experience. This woman stood out to me because I feel I saw Jesus in her. Isabella seemed so close to Jesus and every time she was present to me, there was a spiritual feeling around her. With people like Isabella, there was agape love at Mary Manning Walsh Home with all the

Mary wasn't squeamish about Lynnie's vomit, or smell, or blood. She had the strength to be able to stand what was happening and to take it and to help. It turned out Lynn had a rare blood disease that had surfaced before in their family. When I finally understood how connected Mary and Lynn would always be to each other without taking anything away from our family, my feelings started untangling in a way that felt new. I started being able to relax around Mary. I found out I could trust her. I began to understand that her love for Lynn is like mine. Now we can't imagine not seeing her. We are able to share future dreams and even talk about the sadness of the past. I'm deeply grateful she's a part of our lives.

Her name was Toni Gamez and she was a stranger that I naively let into my life not knowing what would come of it. She was a survivor. Not of a natural disaster, not of a vehicle accident, but of life itself. Seven attempted suicides, years of drug abuse, weeks of hospital visits, all for something much greater than one could ever comprehend. Now, I am not implying that God made her do all these things, but He kept her from cutting the last chord for a reason. He knew everything she went through would one day help hundreds of girls; one of those girls being me.

She lost her leg, has had two major heart attacks, and a stroke. Around that time the doctors instructed her to start saying her goodbyes. Her heart was going into congestive heart failure, and was pumping only 20 percent of the oxygen that it needed to be. Then I met Jesus. At youth one night, I received Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. Over the month's I took care of my mother and the household. I slowly started praying for her, and to find out her heart was regaining function. The doctors were in total awe at her recovery. She was able to see me walk across the stage, and get my diploma. As I grew up, I learned, everything that happened to me in my childhood served me a great purpose. Even though I still act childish from time to time, and have a lot of room to mature, I believe it was my childhood that makes me the man I am today. As I graduated I had somehow was blessed with a second family over time. As I got involved in church and they became my second family. The worship leader is my father figure and his son is like my brother. Mr. Johniee (my father figure) has adopted Ruben and I. He treats us like his sons. We are sort of a trio known all of

As we where leaving I put the bottle in the back sit of my car. Later, on that day when I was at home I opened the bottle and read it. As I was reading the letter my heart skiped a beat. It was written by a girl that leaved in town. She was asking for God to send her her true love. In the letter the girl didn’t put her name saying that whoever reads this letter is to find her then that will

As we grow up in life, we grow up with the understanding that we are loved or to give love. Sometimes that love turns into hate depending on the circumstances which it involves. As Christians, we are taught to show and give love to all and not to hate anyone. God directs us to teach others to do the same. With that being said, love and hate have an enormous amount of meaning that can be explained in a Theological, Biblical and Practical manner.

Love is difficult to define, difficult to measure, and difficult to understand. Love is what great writers write about, great singers sing about, and great philosophers ponder. Love is a powerful emotion, for which there is no wrong definition, for it suits each and every person differently. Whether love is between family, friends, or lovers, it is an overwhelming emotion that can be experienced in many different ways.

I was loved even before I was born, that is what my parents always told me. To be loved and fully accepted without reservation is their greatest gift to me. Raised by Christian parents who modeled Christ’s love, my early life was uneventful and peaceful. I followed the rules and never got in any serious trouble. So for the first ten years of my life, my faith was not tested and had no chance of maturing. My life of ease did not incite me to seek God or his purpose for me. God was in the background for me then.

Love is an abundant emotion that has different degrees. There is familial love, friendly love, unconditional love, and of course romantic love. Romantic love will be the superstar of this article. Romantic love may be around every corner whether between an old couple or a young teenage romance. However, love is not the easiest thing to attain. It is such a simple concept, though a difficult thing to actually have a person’s hands on.