Later that night as the storm raged outside, I led Maria up to the little room I had readied. When Maria and I finished dinner, I got down on a knee and asked, “Maria, will you . . . ?” Then the emotion of the moment was just too much for me and I couldn’t talk anymore. As has been one of Sweet Maria’s many outstanding characteristics ever since—she helped me finish what I had started, and said, “Yes.” These days I continue to tell Sweet Maria that I am much more experienced at loving her than she is at loving me—because among other things, I’ve been at it a couple of years longer than she’s
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