<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:44:26.665-08:00</updated><category term='Silient Love'/><category term='love stories.About love'/><category term='marrige'/><category term='Love Tokens'/><category term='About Love'/><category term='love quotes'/><category term='love&apos;s story'/><category term='love Story'/><category term='love'/><category term='lovers'/><title type='text'>MeineLiebek -For Some one Special...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-8680285869578121582</id><published>2009-03-13T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T11:12:05.793-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Mujhe Baahon Mein Bikhar Jaane Do</title><content type='html'>Mujhe baahon mein bikhar jaane do&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil machalta hai aur saans rukti hai,&lt;br /&gt;Ab toh seene mein aaj mujhe utar aane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shokh nazron ko sharm aati hai,&lt;br /&gt;Thartharaate hue labon ko chain paane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raat tanha hai aur sard mausam hai,&lt;br /&gt;Shola-e-ehsaas ko AB aur bhadak jaane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behke hain hum fizaa Jo behki hai,&lt;br /&gt;Dil ko dil rooh ko rooh mein sama jaane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bikhre gesu hain bikhra kaajal hai,&lt;br /&gt;Haule haule is shab ko tum guzar jaane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abhi aur bhi armaan dil me baaki hai,&lt;br /&gt;Yuhin baahon mein is raat ko kat jaane do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mujhe baahon mein bikhar jaane do&lt;br /&gt;Apni mushkabaar saason se mehek jaane do…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-8680285869578121582?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/8680285869578121582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=8680285869578121582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8680285869578121582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8680285869578121582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2009/03/mujhe-baahon-mein-bikhar-jaane-do.html' title='Mujhe Baahon Mein Bikhar Jaane Do'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-4218024430070335795</id><published>2008-09-17T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T00:50:16.245-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marrige'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Love VS Marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is holding hands in the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is holding arguments in the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is dinner for 2 in your favorite restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is a take home packet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is cuddling on a sofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is one of them sleeping on a sofa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is talking about having children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is talking about getting away from children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is going to bed early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is going to sleep early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is a romantic drive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is arrive on tops curvy tarmac .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is losing your appetite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is losing your figure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is sweet nothing in the ear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is sweet nothing in the bank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tv has no place in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is a fight for remote control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love is 1 drink and 2 straws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Marriage is "Don't you think you've had enough!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Conclusion: "Love is blind, Marriage is an eye opener!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-4218024430070335795?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/4218024430070335795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=4218024430070335795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/4218024430070335795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/4218024430070335795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-vs-marriage.html' title='Love VS Marriage'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-8192681769634770909</id><published>2008-09-17T00:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T00:28:06.924-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lovers'/><title type='text'>A Brief history of famous lovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SNCxeIMfzfI/AAAAAAAABg8/IJu6P5xWHyc/s1600-h/hs1a4n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SNCxeIMfzfI/AAAAAAAABg8/IJu6P5xWHyc/s400/hs1a4n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246888697040719346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-8192681769634770909?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/8192681769634770909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=8192681769634770909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8192681769634770909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8192681769634770909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/09/brief-history-of-famous-lovers.html' title='A Brief history of famous lovers'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SNCxeIMfzfI/AAAAAAAABg8/IJu6P5xWHyc/s72-c/hs1a4n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-8059141148336985238</id><published>2008-09-10T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T05:33:25.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Tokens'/><title type='text'>Love Tokens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-UfHcO0I/AAAAAAAABVg/MC4X7eJKDXI/s1600-h/ade955f282.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-UfHcO0I/AAAAAAAABVg/MC4X7eJKDXI/s400/ade955f282.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244369550255602498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-UedwpbI/AAAAAAAABVo/hZv8nqj6e9s/s1600-h/cfcd1843f5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-UedwpbI/AAAAAAAABVo/hZv8nqj6e9s/s400/cfcd1843f5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244369550080779698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-Ut9ZriI/AAAAAAAABVw/csQgh12-cY0/s1600-h/debc43bb4a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-Ut9ZriI/AAAAAAAABVw/csQgh12-cY0/s400/debc43bb4a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244369554240024098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-U65x2eI/AAAAAAAABV4/6Yp64E4wSVc/s1600-h/debfcabb08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-U65x2eI/AAAAAAAABV4/6Yp64E4wSVc/s400/debfcabb08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244369557714491874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-VPvyilI/AAAAAAAABWA/hyH0TArd02o/s1600-h/ec9bc1c19e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-VPvyilI/AAAAAAAABWA/hyH0TArd02o/s400/ec9bc1c19e.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244369563309738578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9uuAZPZI/AAAAAAAABU4/CNg801hhfuw/s1600-h/329aff4aab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9uuAZPZI/AAAAAAAABU4/CNg801hhfuw/s400/329aff4aab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368901417549202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9ujZS19I/AAAAAAAABVA/BOEaWBxKi48/s1600-h/1032a1179a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" 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src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OEtlhOI/AAAAAAAABUQ/_HzDM7yVli8/s400/10b7f2df5a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368340576994530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OKA0MMI/AAAAAAAABUY/qEOz20ljMow/s1600-h/72bbf0fc00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OKA0MMI/AAAAAAAABUY/qEOz20ljMow/s400/72bbf0fc00.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368341999825090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OkJfyfI/AAAAAAAABUg/CmUmXFBBMO4/s1600-h/87dd228e11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OkJfyfI/AAAAAAAABUg/CmUmXFBBMO4/s400/87dd228e11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368349015558642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9Ow9ACRI/AAAAAAAABUo/j_lndmAn5gI/s1600-h/88cbd430e6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9Ow9ACRI/AAAAAAAABUo/j_lndmAn5gI/s400/88cbd430e6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368352452806930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OytA2CI/AAAAAAAABUw/AB_-NI_b38Y/s1600-h/88d6718bf0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe9OytA2CI/AAAAAAAABUw/AB_-NI_b38Y/s400/88d6718bf0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244368352922621986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-8059141148336985238?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/8059141148336985238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=8059141148336985238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8059141148336985238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8059141148336985238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/09/love-tokens.html' title='Love Tokens'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SMe-UfHcO0I/AAAAAAAABVg/MC4X7eJKDXI/s72-c/ade955f282.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-8836747577483212594</id><published>2008-08-26T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T01:24:42.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Silient Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love stories.About love'/><title type='text'>love's story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all repaired their boats and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love wanted to persevere until the last possible moment. When the island was almost sinking, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel, "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat." Vanity answered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sadness was close by so Love asked for help, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh....Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Happiness passed by Love too, but he was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come Love, I will take you." It was an elder. Love felt so blessed and overjoyed that he even forgot to ask the elder his name. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went his own way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love realizing how much he owed the elder and asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who helped me?" "It was Time," Knowledge answered. "Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?" Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because, only Time is capable of understanding how great Love is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-8836747577483212594?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/8836747577483212594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=8836747577483212594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8836747577483212594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8836747577483212594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/08/loves-story_26.html' title='love&apos;s story'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-1655131441038198446</id><published>2008-08-24T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T06:20:11.215-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='About Love'/><title type='text'>Unconditional love</title><content type='html'>Some time ago, a friend of mine punished his 4 year old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the small child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree. Nevertheless the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said "This is for you Daddy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was embarrassed by his earlier over reaction... He opened the box and his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he yelled at her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON'T YOU KNOW when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside of it???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Daddy it's not empty, I blew kisses into the box, all for you Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her for forgiveness. My friend told me that he kept that gold box near his bed for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever he was discouraged he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there. In a very real sense each of us has been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-1655131441038198446?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/1655131441038198446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=1655131441038198446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/1655131441038198446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/1655131441038198446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/08/unconditional-love.html' title='Unconditional love'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-6782428072380384481</id><published>2008-08-15T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T22:28:22.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Silient Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love stories.About love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='About Love'/><title type='text'>A Silent Love</title><content type='html'>From the very Begining, the girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background &amp;amp; that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that &amp;amp; the family's pressure, the girl often vent her anger on him. As for him, he only endure it in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated &amp;amp; decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl agreed, &amp;amp; with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in &amp;amp; agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails &amp;amp; phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realised that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,.....it's still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. &amp;amp; not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions &amp;amp; millions of reply, and countless of phonecalls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything &amp;amp; be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a new environment, the girl learn sign language &amp;amp; started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came &amp;amp; told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year has passed &amp;amp; her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-6782428072380384481?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/6782428072380384481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=6782428072380384481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/6782428072380384481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/6782428072380384481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/08/silent-love.html' title='A Silent Love'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-5280975641767307615</id><published>2008-08-10T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T06:47:31.778-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love Story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love stories.About love'/><title type='text'>A Nice Story about Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;once had a friend who grew to be very close to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Once when we were sitting at the edge of a swimming pool, she filled the palm of her hand with some water and held it before me, and said this: "You see this water carefully contained on my hand? It symbolizes Love."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This was how I saw it: As long as you keep your hand caringly open and allow it to remain there, it will always be there. However, if you attempt to close your fingers round it and try to posses it, it will spill through the first cracks it finds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;This is the greatest mistake that people do when they meet love...they try to posses it, they demand, they expect... and just like the water spilling out of your hand, love will retrieve from you .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;For love is meant to be free, you cannot change its nature. If there are people you love, allow them to be free beings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Give and don't expect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Advise, but don't order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Ask, but never demand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;It might sound simple, but it is a lesson that may take a lifetime to truly practice. It is the secret to true love. To truly practice it, you must sincerely feel no expectations from those who you love, and yet an unconditional caring."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Passing thought... Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take; but by the moments that take our breath away.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Life is beautiful!!!  Live it !!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-5280975641767307615?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/5280975641767307615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=5280975641767307615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/5280975641767307615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/5280975641767307615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/08/nice-story-about-love.html' title='A Nice Story about Love'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-9215993495861885999</id><published>2008-08-04T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T23:21:28.309-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love&apos;s story'/><title type='text'>love's story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all repaired their boats and left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; Love wanted to persevere until the last possible moment. When the island was almost sinking, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel, "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat." Vanity answered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Sadness was close by so Love asked for help, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh....Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Happiness passed by Love too, but he was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come Love, I will take you." It was an elder. Love felt so blessed and overjoyed that he even forgot to ask the elder his name. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went his own way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Love realizing how much he owed the elder and asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who helped me?" "It was Time," Knowledge answered. "Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?" Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because, only Time is capable of understanding how great Love is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-9215993495861885999?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/9215993495861885999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=9215993495861885999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/9215993495861885999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/9215993495861885999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/08/loves-story.html' title='love&apos;s story'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4693143971654095359.post-8482907527311905713</id><published>2008-07-15T07:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T08:00:34.795-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love Story'/><title type='text'>A Titanic love Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SHy61jDK6oI/AAAAAAAAAIA/jxKnuLeo75c/s1600-h/1202740098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SHy61jDK6oI/AAAAAAAAAIA/jxKnuLeo75c/s320/1202740098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223255096947305090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A customs officer boarded the Carpathia. He began to take down names. It had begun to rain, and everyone was getting anxious to leave the ship. The officer approached Rose.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Your name, please, love," he said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Rose Dawson," she replied.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Thank you," responded the officer, as he moved on to a group of Irish immigrants that looked to be a family.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose was still wearing the same dress and Cal’s coat. She placed her hands in the pockets, and discovered that the necklace was still there. She fingered it and placed it back in her pocket.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The customs officers assisted the pier workers in getting the survivors to the offices of the White Star Line. Rose was among the last to get off the ship.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After Rose got off the Carpathia, she realized that a new chapter of her life had to begin. There were promises to keep that she had made to herself and to Jack, the man she had loved and lost a few days before. She felt the Heart of the Ocean necklace in her pocket, and she realized that she needed to keep it as a reminder of her past and her future.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She started to walk away from Chelsea Pier towards the street. She began walking down the street after leaving the pier and ran into Molly Brown. "Rose!" Molly exclaimed excitedly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "Shh! Be quiet."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly took Rose to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel and gave Rose a nightgown to wear while she had Rose’s dress sent to the laundry. Rose said to Molly, "I need some money to go to California. Can you help me?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly said, "Of course. I will pay for your train fare. I have to go to Denver to see my children before I go to other places." Rose was very happy and felt much better.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "Molly, promise me something."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly said, "I am a woman of my word."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, in a voice of venom, "Never tell my mother and Cal that I made off the Titanic alive. I want to start a new life without restraints."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly said, in a voice of understanding, "I will not say anything. If Jack were alive, I would also help him, too. I know he meant a lot to you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose began to cry. Molly rocked her on the bed in her arms like a child. She summoned the maid for some tea.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;That night, Rose prayed, "God, give me the strength to go on. Watch over Jack and Molly. Keep them safe. Amen." This would be the prayer she would say for many years, and would add others to it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next day, Molly took Rose to several 5th Avenue shops for some new clothes and got her a valise to carry her stuff. Then, in the privacy of her hotel room, Rose cut off a few inches of her hair, then braided it and pinned it into a bun. Molly called to Rose, "Dinner is ready."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose called, "Be right there, Molly."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose was beginning to feel much better by just being with Molly Brown. She was a trusted person to Rose. That night, she put on the Heart of the Ocean and closed her eyes to remember the night that Jack drew her like one of his French girls. She remembered saying to him, "I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose’s memory went back to the night she realized her love for Jack, and she was ready to fulfill many of her dreams. She remembered Jack saying, "Promise me you’ll never let go, no matter how hopeless."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She had been in Paris before sailing on the Titanic with Cal, and had seen many artists like Jack. She might have seen him and never knew he was there. She opened her eyes again, removed the necklace, and placed in her coat pocket. In just over a week, she would be in California.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Going West&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A week later, Rose and Molly were on a train headed west. Rose looked out the window, watching the landscape change constantly. She constantly fingered the necklace. She vowed never to give it up or sell it, no matter how bad things got.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose just continued to stare out the window during the day, watching the landscape of America constantly change. She was simply amazed by it because she never saw anything other than buildings in Philadelphia.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Back in New York, Ruth DeWitt Bukater and Cal Hockley mourned the loss of Rose. They never knew she made it. Her mother moved in with Cal’s family for a short time. Then she went to Philadelphia, broken-hearted over her daughter for the rest of her days.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was May 1, 1912, the day that she was to be married to Cal. She watched Molly leave the train with tears in her eyes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly said, "Send a telegram to Denver when you get to Los Angeles."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose replied, "I will. I promise. Thank you for your help."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Molly said, "I will continue to help. Just let me know!"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The train left Denver, and Rose wondered what her life would bring next.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Rose Reaches the City of Angels&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It was May third, and the train reached Los Angeles. The ocean was not far away and could be seen in the distance.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose picked up her valise and coat, and got off the train. She handed the porter a dollar to take her into the city to a good hotel. The driver took to the Santa Monica Hotel in a black Model T.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She checked into the hotel as Mrs. R. J. Dawson. The bellboy carried her bag and coat to her room. Rose carried her purse with her money and the necklace. She asked the bellboy, as he opened the door to her room, "Do you have a safe in the room?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"The safe is right here," said the bellboy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Thank you," said Rose.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose removed her shoes and sat on the bed. Tears began to stream down her face. Then she began to cry because she had seen the roller coaster from her window, the waves washing onto the shore, people drinking cheap beer, and people riding horses.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She wanted to be there with Jack, experiencing all of it. She closed her eyes and imagined them riding the roller coaster, drinking cheap beer, and riding horses in the surf. They were laughing and acting silly. No one seemed to care at all.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She remembered the promise to Jack made a few days after she tried to throw herself off the ship. "Promise me…" She wiped the tears from her eyes and began to unpack. She had enough money for a few days. Then, she would have to get a job.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The necklace and most of the money was placed in the safe. She pinned her room key inside of her skirt pocket, changed her shirt, and tied her hair back with a ribbon. She put some money in her purse and went outside. She walked to the beach. She rode the roller coaster, drank some cheap beer, and rode horses in the surf for the next few weeks and got many pictures taken.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She said to herself, "I kept the promise for you, Jack. I love you. I will never let go, no matter how hopeless."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;New Life Begins&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She went to a moving picture studio and got a job as a stenographer. She made twenty-five dollars a week, and got a small room in a rooming house in Santa Monica. By the end of the year, she got a Model T and learned to drive. She saved a lot of money. She even helped the woman with the rooming house by cooking supper and washing dishes, something she would never would have done if she were married to Cal.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One morning, she woke up feeling ill. She usually liked the smell of breakfast, but she couldn’t contain herself and opened the window and vomited. The feeling continued for several days.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose decided to go the doctor to find out what the mysterious illness was. After an examination, the doctor told her the news. "You are with child." Rose fainted in the room and the doctor had to get smelling salts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Where is your husband?" asked the doctor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Dead!" cried Rose. "About two months ago in a tragic accident!"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Where is his family?" the doctor asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"I’m not sure. He didn’t have much family!" Rose responded, still crying.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Your mother or father?" asked the doctor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"They died also. I am the only one left!" Rose said. "But I do have a friend to take care of me at the boarding house," she added.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After the doctor said that the baby was due on January fifteenth, Rose walked out of the doctor’s office. She realized that Jack was still with her, only spiritually.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose patted her tummy lightly. "Jack, you are with me still. I will never let go!" she said to herself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose walked home, and the woman running the house told her, "I will take care of you as if you were my own."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose went to her room and remembered back to that night that she and Jack made love in the Renault. She began to cry.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She said to herself, "I am going to be a success. I will raise this child and tell them about his or her wonderful father. I would never would have done it if it hadn’t been for Jack."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose thought, &lt;i&gt;If Jack were alive, we would be married and have a house overlooking the ocean&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A Trip Back to the Past&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose decided to take a trip to Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. She wanted to see Jack’s hometown. She boarded the train for the journey. She was apprehensive during the trip, knowing that she might be recognized, but she never really talked to anyone.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a journey by car to Chippewa Falls, she looked around at the small town. She asked a local shopkeeper where to find the Dawson residence. The shopkeeper said, "The Dawson house burnt down a few years ago, but young Jack managed to escape, and we haven’t heard from him since. Why do you ask?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"I am his widow from a shipwreck--the Titanic," she said, fighting back tears.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The shopkeeper’s wife exclaimed, "I am so sorry, my dear," and she embraced the young woman.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"I must go now," Rose said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Good luck, and my condolences," said the storekeeper’s wife.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She went to the local undertaker and paid two dollars to get a tombstone for Jack that was engraved:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jack Dawson&lt;br /&gt;1892-1912&lt;br /&gt;Loving Husband and Friend&lt;br /&gt;I’ll Never Let Go&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She had it placed in the cemetery and left a bouquet of flowers. She said, "I will go on, and you will see how go on with my life."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In a few days, she returned to California and to the boarding house. The lady never asked her what the purpose of the trip had been.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose continued to marvel at the miracle of life occurring within her. She did not mind all of the things that came along with being in a delicate condition, such as food cravings and swollen feet. She wanted Jack more than ever, but tried to not to think about him too much. She knew that Jack was watching her and the child from above.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;On the morning of January 15, 1913, Rose woke up and felt different. She told her friend that she felt pangs that she had never felt before. "What is wrong?" she asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mrs. Smith said, "Your time is come, dear. Now, lie down on the bed. I will telephone the doctor."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose began to feel more pain and cried out Jack’s name. But she stopped crying when the doctor gave her some medicine. She fell asleep and saw Jack’s face.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After twelve hours of labor, the medicine wore off, and Rose started to hallucinate some.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It seemed like a ghost came to her. Jack’s ghost said, "Rose, you will do fine. I wish I was there. I am your angel from heaven. Watch over our child and tell her our story."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The medicine wore off, and the doctor and Mrs. Smith told Rose to push several times. After an hour of agonizing pushing, a baby girl was born.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Very healthy, just like her mom!" the doctor said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The doctor handed the baby to Rose. Rose beamed. She said, "The child’s name shall be Jacqueline Rose Ann Dawson."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A few days later, a priest baptized baby Jackie, as she was nicknamed by her mother. She was the spitting image of Jack, but with Rose’s red hair.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jackie became a healthy and happy child who was the image of her parents. She followed her mother all over. She was also very intelligent and well-mannered. Rose eventually sent to her a girl’s school to get a good education, St. Mary’s School for Girls. Rose and Jackie always wrote each other often.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose eventually landed a few other odd jobs to save money for a place of her own--a few plays on the Los Angeles stage, a few extra roles in silent films, a pilot, a waitress, and a model, all in the period from 1913 - 1922. Then she moved into a house down the street with her earnings. She eventually landed a job working in a ceramics and pottery shop.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A New Beginning and a New Love&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ten years have passed since the tragedy…of the Titanic&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, thought Rose.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Eight-and-a-half-year-old Jackie asked her mom, "What was the Titanic?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose sat her daughter down and told the story of her parents’ brief courtship and marriage prior to the sinking of the ship. "I loved your father, and he would have spoiled you rotten."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jackie said, "Don’t you have a picture of him?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "No, I don’t. He exists now only in my memory. He was a loving man who cared for me when no one else would."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jackie said, "That’s good enough for me."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;*****&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose was shopping one day in the city when a young man asked her a question. "Do you know where to find a good place to eat here?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She said, "Follow me."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The young man said, "My name is John Calvert. And you are?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "Rose Dawson. Pleased to meet you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "Pleased to meet you, Rose."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They walked into a restaurant called San Pablo. The waiter seated them. John offered to pay, but initially Rose resisted. She eventually gave in. They shared a platter of burritos and beer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;During the meal, John asked Rose, "Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose hesitated. Then, she began to speak. She stated, "You must not share this with anyone."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "You have my word as a gentleman."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "I was born in Philadelphia to wealthy parents. I went to school in New York, London, and Paris until I was fifteen. My father died when I was nearly sixteen. He left us in debt, which was a guarded secret until a few months before. I went to a finishing school for a year. I was engaged to a steel magnate heir, but I didn’t love him at all. I was in Europe with my widowed mother and my fiancé for several months. We returned home on a grand ship. While on board, I met a young man and fell in love with him, but was unable to talk much with him. I lost track of him and don’t remember what happened to him. When the ship docked in New York, I ran away and been here ever since."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose never mentioned the fact that the ship was the Titanic, nor that she fell in love with Jack. She never wanted to hear about the Titanic again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John asked, "Why did you run away?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, with sadness in her voice, "I was not happy with the arranged marriage. My fiancé was controlling and much older than I, and also, he was not very nice to me."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "Let me tell you about myself."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As Rose sipped her beer, John talked about his life as a horse trainer and farmer in the valleys of California. He was very happy with his life and had never left the States. He was originally from Iowa, but his family moved west when he was a teenager. As he was talking, Rose riveted him, even though he had only known her for a few hours.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John paid the bill and told the waiter, "Keep the change."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They went for a walk along the beach and continued to talk. She was enthralled with John’s stories of his life because he was so similar to Jack. She held back her tears as the memories came back, but she never let John see that she was ready to cry.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He walked Rose to her house. He asked her, "Do you go to Sacred Heart Church near here?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "Yes, I do."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "There is a social and gathering after Mass. Will you be my guest?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose replied, "Yes."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "See you on Sunday at ten o’clock AM."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;*****&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;As John walked down the street, Rose felt good. She walked down the street, then went to a women’s shop and got a new blue sailor style hat so she would look her best for Sunday.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;On Saturday night, Rose was dreaming. She was remembering Jack and the good times that they had together, like the third class party and the moment on the bow.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Jack, I’m flying," she was saying in the dream, and she was smiling.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Also in the dream, she heard the song that he was singing to her, "&lt;i&gt;Come Josephine in my flying machine, going up she goes, up she goes&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then another memory. "I believe you are blushing, Mister Big Artiste."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then another memory came back. When they had been separated for a short time when she was placed in a boat, she had left the boat to be with him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For a moment, she felt torn between the memories of a dead man and a man who was courting her. Then the alarm clock rang for six o’clock AM, and she woke up. She splashed her face with water, then went to get a bite for breakfast downstairs.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After breakfast, Rose put on a blue empire-style dress and her new sailor hat. She fastened a set of pearls around her neck. She grabbed her purse, prayer book, and parasol. She bid good morning to the woman at the boarding house. The bells were summoning people to Mass. She took Jackie by the hand and led her into church.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Walking down the street, she was among many heading to church. Rose and Jackie went into the church. It was beautiful in the inside for Mass. John was in the back with his parents and motioned to Rose and Jackie to sit next to him. She graciously accepted and sat down.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;During the Prayers of the Faithful, Rose prayed to herself, "God, watch over Jack, who is in the North Atlantic. Also, keep watch over Mother and Cal. They need it. Amen."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After Mass was over, John introduced Rose and Jackie to his parents. "Mother, Father, this is Rose Dawson, originally from the east, but she lives nearby. Rose’s husband died before Jackie was born. Rose has been a widow ever since."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mr. Calvert shook Rose’s gloved hand, and Mrs. Calvert embraced Rose to greet her. "Pleased to meet you," they said in unison.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then Father James came up and introduced himself to Rose. "Pleased to have you here, Miss Dawson. Hopefully you will join us every Sunday," said the priest.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "I shall do that. I am here in town indefinitely."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose and John walked across the street to the park, where the social was already going on. She and John sat under a tree and sipped lemonade. They began to talk more and share more about their lives. But Rose never spoke of Jack to John. She did not feel comfortable telling him about him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jackie went to play with the other children in the park but kept an eye on her mom.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John whispered to Rose, "I really like you a lot. Can I meet your mother?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "That would be impossible. She no longer speaks to me because I ran away." She added, "I never have regretted my decision one bit."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John responded, "I am glad that you have not regretted it." He asked, "Can I see you again? Every Sunday after church?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose said, "Yes, you can."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After the social, John walked Rose to the boarding house and went towards the pier to meet his parents for supper.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose went to her bedroom and changed to a blue dress that was not as formal. She wrote in her journal: &lt;i&gt;Today is the fourth Sunday of May. It has been over ten years since Jack went to heaven. I believe that I have fallen in love with John Calvert. He resembles Jack in so many ways. I am able to confide in him, unlike Cal or Mother. I attended Mass today with him and Jackie. I met his parents also. If that step isn’t closer to a marriage proposal, what is? Today was the church social, and I was John’s guest. I met many people that I would have never gotten the opportunity to see in my old life. John is caring and thoughtful, and also a gentleman, all things that Cal never was&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do You Take This Man?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Two months of courtship passed quickly. Before Rose realized it, she had fallen in love with John. John called on her at her house on a Saturday. Rose thought to herself, &lt;i&gt;He never comes on Saturday. Something is up&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Jackie, I am going out. Go stay with Mrs. Smith."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Yes, Mother, I will. Kissy, kissy."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Okay. Enough of that!" said Rose in a happy voice.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John and Rose went to the beach. John was very quiet. Rose asked, "Why are we here?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John said, "Sit down, Rose."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John pulled out a pearl and diamond ring. He got down on one knee and asked, "Rose Dawson, will you marry me?"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose answered, "Yes, I will," in a voice that was very happy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;John placed the diamond and pearl ring on Rose’s finger. They walked to his parents’ house. Mr. and Mrs. Calvert already knew about John’s plans. They raised a glass of champagne and said, "To the happy couple."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose realized that there was a lot to be done. John wanted to go to Iowa in time to be settled in for the harvest on his grandparents’ farm. Rose wasn’t too happy about going to Iowa, but she realized that she loved him more than she knew. Jackie helped her mom with the hasty wedding plans.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A baker Rose knew from her days living in the boarding house offered to make the wedding cake for five dollars, which was half price. He liked Rose as a daughter he never had. His own daughter would never get married because she was confined to a wheelchair after a devastating illness. It was like he was doing it for his own.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The priest agreed to marry them for the cost of fifty dollars, which included the rental of the church, an organist, and a soloist.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;With the help of a local seamstress, Miss Walter, Rose designed her wedding dress. It would be very beautiful.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Miss Walter said, "As a gift, here is a lace veil my mother wore on her wedding day and a dress for your daughter."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose responded with tears in her voice. "Thank you."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A few nights later, in a lavender lace and satin dress, a color her mother despised, Rose and John were married in the chapel of the church by Father James, with Jackie as flower girl. It was a beautiful day, and Rose was happy for the first time since that night in April. The celebration went long into the night, with plenty of people stopping by to wish the newlyweds well.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next day, Rose and John headed to Iowa to live the remainder of her days with him and her daughter, Jackie. She became a farmer and later on, a businessman’s wife, since John stopped farming a few years after they were married.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Epilogue&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Rose and John were married for sixty-five long and happy years. John adopted Jackie as his own daughter. Rose and John had two children together, John, Jr. and James Christopher. All of them blessed them with three grandchildren from Jackie, three grandchildren from J.J., and four grandchildren from James. John died two months after their sixty-fifth anniversary. Her granddaughter, Lizzy Calvert, the youngest daughter of James, took her to Ojai, California to live with her. But she never spoke of Jack and the Titanic until the day of the phone call prompted by a newscast. That is a new story altogether…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The End.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4693143971654095359-8482907527311905713?l=meineliebek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/feeds/8482907527311905713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4693143971654095359&amp;postID=8482907527311905713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8482907527311905713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4693143971654095359/posts/default/8482907527311905713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meineliebek.blogspot.com/2008/07/titanic-love-story.html' title='A Titanic love Story'/><author><name>Davinder Bisht</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18136795648609136194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_KZkM5MNjOao/SHy61jDK6oI/AAAAAAAAAIA/jxKnuLeo75c/s72-c/1202740098.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
