**Diary Entry A Love Beyond Appearances**
“Maggie, its high time you wed. Look at youblossomed like a summer rose. Take young Simon, for instance. Strong as an ox, arms like hammers. Bends horseshoes without breaking a sweat. Hed carry you in his arms like a queen,” her mother mused, eyeing her daughter.
Maggie burst into laughter. “Oh yes, hed pick me up and bend me like one of his horseshoes. Then Id spend my life nose-deep in the dirt!”
“Dont be daft, girl. This is serious! Listen to your mother if you want happiness. I know who youve set your heart onAndrew. But mark my words, hell make a poor husband,” she sighed.
Maggie spun around. “Whats wrong with him? Hardworking. Their cottage is the tidiest in the village. Every shed in order. Ours will be too!”
Her mother chuckled. “And who dyou think keeps it that way? His elder brother, Gregory. Everything thrives in his hands. Your Andrew? All he cares for is his accordion and the nearest hayloft, where he takes turns fondling silly girls like you.”
“Mum, dont talk nonsense. Gregorys disabled. His heads always tilted, hunched, one leg shorter. How dyou reckon he manages?”
“Go see for yourself. Stop by Aunt Lucys tomorrow, help gather apples. Then youll understand,” her mother advised.
Maggie obeyed. She found Andrew napping under the shed. She nudged him. “You swore youd mend the roof with your father at dawn. Yet here you are, snoring!”
He yawned. “Whyve you come? To check on me? Ive not even asked for your hand yet. Too soon.”
“Fine, too soon. Im just helping Aunt Lucy with the apples. Join metheres a mountain of them.”
Andrew scoffed. “Not a chance. Id be the village jokeAndrew, fussing with womens work! Off you go.”
Hurt, Maggie left. Only last night, hed held her, called her *love*. She took a basket to Aunt Lucys.
As she picked apples, hammering echoed behind the house. “Whats Uncle Peter building? Everything seems in order.”
Aunt Lucy sighed. “Thats not Peterits Gregory. My husbands laid up with a bad back. But Gregory? Always tinkering, fixing. Cant sit idle. Not like Andrewthat lads only keen on frolicking. But we endure it. Gregory wont wedwhod have him? Andrewll give us grandchildren. Thats how it is. If youre curious, go see. But hes shymight bolt.”
Basket in hand, Maggie followed the sound. There sat Gregory, whittling a block of wood.
“Hello,” she ventured. “May I see?” He flinched but stayed. Handed her the carving. Her own face stared back.
“Me?” she gasped. He nodded, then suddenly gripped her wrist, dragging her past the garden. Fear prickled her spineshould she scream?but they halted at a tiny shed.
Inside, she found herselfin clay, in wood, even sketched on paper. “Why?” she whispered.
His voice was rough. “Youre beautiful. Im not.” He turned away, shoulders shaking. She tried to embrace him.
“Dont. I never knew. Do you… love me?” He lifted his head. His eyesblue as a summer lakeheld such devotion, she fled, terrified.
Back home, Gregory slumped at the table. “Why did you birth me a cripple? Shouldve drowned me. Andrews belovedIm shunned. She *ran* from me. If she weds him, Ill hang myself.”
His mother stroked his hair, weeping. “Hush! Would I kill my own child? Maggies a good lassany mand be blessed. Andrew doesnt love her; I know it. Fate will find youyou cant hide from it.”
Yet Maggie couldnt forget Gregorys eyes. Such love! Strangest of all, shed barely noticed his hunched back or limp.
Days later, Andrew teased her. “Come to see me or Mum? Fancy more apple-picking?”
“No. Im here for Gregory. To apologize. You toddle offisnt Betty waiting by the oak?” She marched past his stunned face.
The village buzzed. Pretty Maggie, wed to Gregory? Some whispered spells; others pitied her.
Only her mother knew the truth. Maggie and Gregory sat for hours, heads bent, laughing. They married quietlyno jeering guests.
Andrew boasted to the girls: “I near proposed! But she chose my broken brother.”
Maggie and Gregory moved to the village edge. He designed their home, building with fervor (though their fathers helped). A proper little manorfolk gawked.
They blessed their parents with two grandsons and a granddaughter.
Andrew? Still roving. Not with young maids nowany warm bed. Even chased married women, earning him beatings and tar. Hed shrug it off, heal, and carry on.
But Maggie and Gregory? Their home brimmed with joy. Envy simmered. Some sneered, “God gave a beauty a *defective* husband.”
Maggie would laugh. “In thirty years, Ill be hunched too! Look at yourselvesaching backs, creaking knees. My Gregorys only *outside*. Inside, hes the kindest, handsomest man alive.”
**Lesson:** The heart sees what eyes cannot. Love isnt carved by perfect handsits built by the soul.
