home. We called her St. Cecilia. I watched her once cutting roses in her garden, when she didn't know anybody was near. At first it didn't hurt much. I had no aspirations. She was like a beautiful dream in my life, which redeemed it from triviality. I fed my dream with what glimpses of her came my way.
\"Later, all that was changed. It hurt then! Because I knew that she must be unhappy, and I longed to make her happy. I wanted
home. We called her St. Cecilia. I watched her once cutting roses in her garden, when she didn't know anybody was near. At first it didn't hurt much. I had no aspirations. She was like a beautiful dream in my life, which redeemed it from triviality. I fed my dream with what glimpses of her came my way.
\"Later, all that was changed. It hurt then! Because I knew that she must be unhappy, and I longed to make her happy. I wanted
