But couldn’t you say it just to me?” The Giver hesitated painfully, as if saying the name aloud might be excruciating.
“Her name was Rosemary,” he told Jonas, finally. “Rosemary. I like that name.”
The Giver went on. “When she came to me for the first time, she sat there in the chair where you sat on your first day.
She was eager and excited and a little scared. We talked. I tried to explain things as well as I could.”
“The way you did to me.” The Giver chuckled ruefully. “The explanations are difficult. The whole thing is so beyond one’s experience.
But I tried. And she listened carefully. Her eyes were very luminous, I remember.”
He looked up suddenly. “Jonas, I gave you a memory that I told you was my favorite. I still have a shred of it left.
The room, with the family, and grandparents?” Jonas nodded. Of course he remembered.
“Yes,” he said.It had that wonderful feeling with it. You told me it was love.”
“You can understand, then, that that’s what I felt for Rosemary,” The Giver explained. “I loved her.
“I feel it for you, too,” he added. “What happened to her?” Jonas asked.
“Her training began. She received well, as you do. She was so enthusiastic. So delighted to experience new things. I remember her laughter...”
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