I remember the way the light touched her hair．She turned her head, and our eyes met, a momentary awareness in that noisy fifth grade classroom．I felt as though I’d been stuck a blow under the heart．Thus began my first love affair．

　　Her name was Rachel, and I mooned my way through the grade and high school, stricken at the mere sight of her, tongue-tied in her presence．Does anyone, anymore, wander in the shadows of evening, drawn by the pale light of a window-her window-like some unlucky summer insect?

　　Her beauty made me awkward(笨拙的)and my voice crack(沙哑)is like some impossible dream now．I would catch sight of her, walking down an aisle of trees to or from, and I’d be-come a fool．She always seemed so charming．

　　At home, I’d relive each meeting between us, suffering at the thought of my shortcoming．We eventually got to know as we entered our adolescence, she knew I had a case on her, and I sensed her emotional tolerance for me．“Going steady” implied a maturity we still lacked．Her Orthodox Jewish upbringing and my own Catholic belief made even kissing a distant prospect(前景)，however strongly desired．

　　At any rate, my love for Rachel remained without result．We graduated from high school, she went on to college, and I joined the Army．When World War II broke out, l was sent overseas．For a time we wrote, and her letters were the highlight of those terrible endless years．

　　I mentioned the possibility of marriage in my nest letter, and almost immediately her replies became less frequent, less personal．Her Dear John letter finally caught up with me while I was awaiting discharge．She gently explained the impossibility of a marriage between us．

　　Looking back on it, I must have recovered rather quickly, although for the first few months I believed I didn’t want to live．Like Rachel, I found someone else, whom I learned to love with a deep and permanent commitment that has lasted to this day．

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　　John stood up and studied the crowd of people making their way through the station．He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he 　　1　　, the girl with the 　　2　　．The story had begun twelve months before in a 　　3　　．Taking a book off the shelf he found himself 　　4　　 by the notes penciled in the margin(空白处，白边)．The soft handwriting 　　5　　 a thoughtful soul and insightful mind．In the front of the book, he discovered the 　　6　　 owner's name, Rosanna．

　　During the next year the two grew to know each other through the 　　7　　．Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart．The day finally came for their first 　　8　　－7∶00 P.M．at the station．

　　A beautiful young woman was coming towards me, her 　　9　　 tall and slim．I started to walk towards her with delight, entirely forgetting to 　　10　　 that she was not wearing a rose．I 　　11　　 made one step closer to her, and then I saw Rosanna, a short and fat woman well past 40, was standing almost directly 　　12　　 the girl．The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away．

　　I felt 　　13　　 I was split(撕)in two, and there she stood．My fingers gripped the worn leather copy of the 　　14　　 that was to identify me to her．I knew this would not be 　　15　　, something perhaps even better than love．I felt choked by the bitterness of my 　　16　　．“I'm John, and you must be Rosanna．I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to 　　17　　?”

　　The woman's face broadened into a big smile．“I don't know what this is about, son,” she answered．“but the young lady in the green suit who just 　　18　　 begged me to wear this rose on my coat．And she said 　　19　　 you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big 　　20　　 across the street．She said it was some kind of test!”

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