The Meeting

The Meeting

The Meeting Six minutes to six, said the clock over the information booth in New York’s Grand Central Station. The tall young Army officer lifted his sunburned face and narrowed his eyes to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that choked him. In six minutes he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 18 months, the woman he had never seen yet whose words had sustained him unfailingly. Lt. Blandford remembered one day, in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of enemy planes. In one of those letters, he had confessed to her that often he felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: ”Of course you fear…all brave men do.” Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of Death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me…’ He had remembered that and it renewed his strength. He was going to hear her voice now. Four minutes to six. A girl passed closer to him, and Lt. Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but it was not the

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