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We embraced each other for a long time after this. Indeed, something wonderful had happened to our world. Our embrace lasted for a long time. It lasted until we both stopped crying and the water kettle was whistling in the kitchen.
Helen returned to the kitchen. "And here, I thought I would be teaching you about love," she called back to me from the kitchen. "Instead you taught me."
"But you have started it all with your history lesson, and by being your wonderful self," I said to her as I followed her into the kitchen to be closer to her. "I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen," I said as I entered. "I love what you said. I love the wonderful person you are. I love the good that you have already brought out in me. If anyone had predicted this back at the pub, I would have laughed. What is happening here is revolutionary," I added. "It is as revolutionary as you are beautiful. I love you." I ventured for another kiss.
She didn't answer, but smiled. She got the tea started and began to prepare us some sandwiches. She had olives on the counter, butter, several types of sausage, and rye bread.
"Still, loving means more," she said and continued with what she was doing, unwrapping the butter. "Loving begins with loving oneself," she said. "Your friend Erica hadn't discovered that yet. Our love begins when we discover in ourselves the wonders of our humanity. Then we discover beauty in our soul. We discover joy, art, wisdom, and scientific awareness. Human love begins when we discover ourselves as being creators of a 'divine' universe, as the brightest stars of life that have developed out of life's long history. We begin to love ourselves when we see in ourselves the image of God. Then we cannot help, but love one-another, and love truly. People speak of love, but this is often a front as they have something else in mind. They say to a person, I love you, but they really should say, I am compelled to be near you because I want you to brighten my life; I want you to give me what I have not found in myself, to fill my emptiness. This isn't love, Peter. It is a game of exploitation. It's crude selfishness that has nothing to do with love.
"But you are not like that, Peter. Still, you say you love me. You say it with your eyes. You say with your eyes that you want to touch me, and that you want to touch me as a woman, intimately. And so you should. When we begin to love ourselves, Peter, we are compelled to uplift the world around us. We are compelled to uplift one-another to a higher level of joy, to a higher appreciation for who and what we are, to a greater honesty and openness, to where we enrich one-another out of the depth of our humanity that we all share. When we begin to do this, then love is no longer a game, but something that flows heart to heart. Then, there is joy. Then, we enrich one-another in love. Then, we embrace one-another even as we embrace ourselves. Do you agree that this is what loving is?"
I didn't know how to answer. I agreed! But I had never lived in that dimension. To say, yes, would have been dishonest. It would not have been born out of my own experiences. I answered with a nod instead. I said that I was just beginning to love again. I answered with a kiss. I said, "Thank you for helping me." I think Helen recognized the honesty involved.
Helen continued making the sandwiches while we talked. "Something to go with the tea," she said when she noticed my being surprised by the careful preparation. The tea was peppermint tea. The sandwiches were made of dark rye bread, served with sweet pickles and three kinds of olives on the side, all beautifully arranged. She arranged them with the same care that was reflected in everything about her; that was reflected in the way she dressed; in the way she kept her hair; in the way she made me feel comfortable.
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