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“Music gives a soul to the universe, Wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, And life to everything.”
He was perfect as he told me a story I would never know, yet completely understood.
Cromwell Dean was the hope I had always dreamed him to be.
Her voice was violet blue. I closed my eyes. It was my favorite color to hear.
Manners cost nothing, son. Always be gracious with those who want to help.
“Cromwell?” I asked, and he turned my way. “What’s your favorite? Your favorite color to see?” “Violet blue,” he said in an instant. Violet blue. His favorite color to see . . . and also the sound of my voice. If my failing heart hadn’t let him in before, it did just then.
She was my God-given gift. The girl that brought me back life.
When the threat of death hung over you, you realized that your true dreams weren’t so grand. And they all came down to one thing—love. Material possessions and idealistic goals faded away like a dying star. Love was what remained. Life’s purpose was to love.
