Stephen Oliver Edwards felt his eyes blurry as a shy smile shone on his face. There were tears of gratitude. He thought of how little he prayed, yet how much he gave thanks throughout his entire life. He had been really angry with God for having taken his beloved Rossa, but had been much compensated with Joanna. Sometimes he wondered what he did to deserve such a wonderful daughter. It seemed God, as a way of gratifying him, had gathered all the beauty and compassion and bestowed them on his daughter. As a child, Joanna used to hug her dad telling him the fairies had sent such a good father to her, so that it would be easy for her to love him and take care of him. One evening when she was only six years old, as he mused numbed by the pain of memories and sorrow, he acted as a fool, deepened in silence, sitting as usual in his armchair, oblivious to the efforts of his little one to bring him back with her. Joanna's sweet and serious voice suddenly interrupted his unhappy reverie, cuddling against him and hugging him:
"I know it is hard being alone, but I promise I will do everything I can to help you! Together we can make it, you'll see! I am never going to leave you!"
Brought back to reality by the cold shower of the innocent and sincere words of his little girl, he became aware of the mistake he was about to make, and since then his main concern was targeted towards his daughter's happiness. Over the years, Joanna has shown him that in fact she was the one taking care of him. She was making so much progress from one year to another that he, her father, was proud of her, but had to make some efforts in order to keep up with her. Although she could afford absolutely everything, Joanna was the spitting image of simplicity and innocence. She was never interested in spending money on clothes and jewelry; her only jewels being those inherited from her mother, which she guarded sacredly and wore fondly. Unlike girls her age, she could not care less for 'appearance', which in her opinion was strictly related to clothes. For her, the inside mattered more than the outside and ironically, she had the gift of seeing beyond appearances, almost into the depths of one's soul.
She most definitely refused of posing as well dressed just to impress.When she was sixteen, Joanna was spending the monthly allowance her father gaveher on food, clothes and medicine for the poor. To her father's great surprise, he discovered that it was also her who had supported the cost of the rehab treatment for the father of five children.
Wanting to see to what lengths her generosity went, he twice offered her a million dollars. Her initial shock then turned into a euphoric happiness, so much so that she could not sleep for days on end, analyzing and planning how to spend the money wisely. Soon she discovered she had a special way of dealing with people in need. Due to her unconditional love for everything that meant human being, she found the possibility to create, sponsor, and offer her services as a volunteer at a special shelter she called "The Divine House". Without her knowing, he learnt about her habit of walking disguised among the people with problems, disarming them and turning them into friends, later on changing them for the better.
He was so proud of her, but was under the impression she was not living her life. Joanna was too much of an idealist at twenty-three years of age. Sometimes he was wondering what she would do if she knew how much her inheritance was. "God help her!" He did not bear thinking about it.
"Dad ... Dad!" The young woman put down her knife and fork watching her father worriedly. "Dad, is there something on your mind?"
Stephen startled hearing her fairylike voice and looked tenderly and lovingly at her.
She explained: "You seemed so far away."
"Excuse me?"
"Two pennies for your thoughts", said Joanna to her father.
CITEȘTI
FALSE IDENTITY
RomanceThis is a novel full of sensitivity, a literary tribute to the human feelings desccribed and lived betwen their extremes. Love and hate, generosity and greed, cruelty and kindness, elegance and vulgarity, truth and lie, life and death are as many c...