George Harrison_ The Most Beautiful Boy In Rock

Remembering you with love ❤️

25/2/1943
29/11/2001

GEORGE HARRISON POSTCARDS AND PHOTOCOLLAGE

20 YEARS after his departure...

29 November 2001
29 November 2021

We love you and we miss you, George 💖

"The speech of flowers excels the flowers of speech."

George Harrison

From our book pdf of poems dedicated to George Harrison: Oh, mysterious angel!

(sorry for any translation errors)

DRAWING THE FUTURE

Short Tale

Yolanda García Vázquez
Spain
Copyright reserved

The being awoke from his sleep as if he had slept an eternity. He felt very light, but he still didn't understand where he was. He only knew that both the physical and emotional pain were gone, as well as the fear and uncertainty, which in his previous state had mortified him so much.
Everything was different now. Nothing weighed him down, and nothing hurt him.

He perceived himself as a very small entity and at the same time, very big.

The nature of the place where he was was new to him, but for some strange reason he quickly adjusted to that new situation, for the sensations he felt were very pleasant. He also felt as if his consciousness had expanded and he could travel wherever he wanted. He noticed other similar energies next to him, and although they had not yet communicated with him, he perceived very high and positive vibrations.
That made him happy.

Instantly after understanding this, he also assimilated the characteristics of that place, and although in his corporeal life he had imagined that side in a thousand ways, he never believed that he would feel so alive when he got there.
It was as if all of his "me" had been yearning for that place, and also as if there was no other form of full existence out there.
His answers came from inside him, and his perceptiveness was amazing.

He also in this way he understood what should be his first mission.
Smiled satisfied.

It would be wonderful to see him again.

**************

Liverpool (England)
50s

Somewhere in the forest ...

It was an ordinary afternoon in the late 1950s. The sun was lazily descending on the Liverpool woods as if refusing to come down to rest. A little further away, the port, reminded tourists that this was a city of Irish sailors and emigrants, where dreams took shape when the tears of its inhabitants mixed with the vapors left by the ships on the docks.

But in the countryside, frustration was something else, for there it mutated into a kind of beauty that enlarged hearts and contributed to the ancient belief that anything was possible if it was willed strongly.
And precisely that afternoon, at that time, in that place, there was such a pure silence in the environment, that it seemed as if time also needed to hide in order to dream.

In the forest closest to the old school, the gentle spring breeze danced with the leaves of the trees like a fairy. Not far from there, from a small wasteland, a crystalline stream flowed gently.
Under an old oak, a child cried in dismay, being the exception in that kingdom of beauty.

He was a thin boy, with straight brown hair, somewhat freckled and with a very tender expression on his face.
Sitting on the ground with his head bowed, he whimpered disconsolately.
His open backpack revealed some books and colored pencils. That day he had left school early because the teacher had expelled him from class after hitting him forcefully on the palms of his hands. The reason was as simple as it was unfair:

"Draw guitars during class hours".

They had already warned him, but he couldn't help it, because since he had recovered from a serious illness months ago, this strange new gadget had completely possessed him, and he had nothing in mind but to become a good guitarist. "Study, boy, study!", They said to him at home and at school, but he only thought about his guitar and such was his obsession, that he even had drew it in his notebook when the math teacher gave his lesson.

"You will never get anywhere, if you keep on like this, boy," the teachers would tell him.
He didn't shine much in sports either, as he always ended up rolling on the floor thinking about his guitar. The fault was of Chuck Berry, and of Elvis Presley, or any of those wonderful crazy people that he heard on the radio, because since he had discovered them, his life had completely changed.
And this was why he was so distracted in class.
Although they had never hit him so hard. That teacher he had him mania.
Oh, how his was wrists hurt!
He had hit him with rage.
Lately everything has happened to him.

Nobody seemed to understand him, just Mom and some friend, well, and there was also Paul, who also played the guitar, but he was a year and a half older than him, and it was difficult for him to get along with him, because he only talked about girls, and he seemed to have many more years. He was very tall, and he, who hadn't grown up yet, looked the Paul's "little brother." For this reason, lately he was trying to be more time alone, and also for dedicate himself completely to his guitar, although he was aware that he was also somewhat depressed.
He blew his nose and wiped away his tears. He thought of his mother, and how he would like to go to her lap so that she could comfort him, but no, he shouldn't go, because otherwise he would never become a man, and all his life they would call him " the little brother of Paul ".

Should resist y and console himself. Chuck Berry would have acted the same, nobody would see him cry; He had promised himself.

He suddenly remembered that that day Mom had made blueberry cake to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day, and they had invited the new neighbors to have tea, whose daughter was the same age and she was very pretty.
He was already the age when he begin to notice girls, but he did not dare to talk to any of them, because of he innate shyness, although her new neighbor seemed like a something special girl.

He looked at his watch and breathed in relief, because he still had time to go home before the snack was over; but no, he didn't want to be seen in that state, with reddened eyes and swollen wrists. Mom was going to ask a lot of questions and he would be forced to confess the truth and feel very humiliated in front of that girl.

No, he wouldn't come home until the neighbors had left.

So he decided, but the memory of home made the tears fall down his cheeks again and this time more disconsolately.

The boy cried and cried under the branches of the old tree, while the landscape was turning reddish.
The sun continued to fall languidly on the forest, projecting a canvas of exultant beauty, but the boy was so absorbed in his afliction that he did not hear the sound of footsteps slowly approaching him.

Someone was heading towards the boy, someone who had been deeply moved by his tears. He was a tall and thin man, who seemed to be somewhat out disoriented in that place.

Some swallows had just landed on the oak branches, curiously observing the country scene.
It seemed as if the traveling birds, sensing "something", had stopped their flight to witness an unusual spectacle.

The silence, more and more intense, was only broken by the echoes of the delicate melody that the stream spilled in the distance.

When the stranger reached the boy, he looked at him with an enigmatic expression.
For him it was like diving into a lake of questions knowing in advance that there was only one answer.
Somewhere in infinity two extremes met, and reflected on Earth the solution to all the enigmas;
But down there everything seemed thicker and more unintelligible, because emotions hindered understanding.

The material world was such a small thing ...!

The man after a long silence asked:

- Why are you crying, boy?

The boy raised his head in surprise and looked at the stranger through his tears.
He was a middle-aged man. He must be a stranger, as he had never seen him around, but he seemed like a good person. Something in his gaze told he that could trust him, and although he was a stranger to him,
and something in his face reminded he of someone, but didn't know who.

- Oh, sir! They beat me at school-he said sadly
- Who? - asked the worried man
- The teacher, for drawing guitars and for not paying attention.

The man gulped visibly excited

- And why do you draw guitars in class?
- Because I love them ... - said the boy trying to contain his crying
- Well you can draw them at home so they won't punish you
- I know, but I can't help it ...

The stranger smiled and looked at him tenderly

- Ok, in that case, you must face the consequences
- Yes, but I feel bad. Not only because of the hands, and the punishment, but also because of this ...- and he touched his chest with anguish - My soul hurts. Sometimes I want to be invisible.

The stranger nodded understanding.

- I know how you feel, and you are not the only one. It happened to me many times ...

The boy opened, his eyes surprised

- Seriously?
- Yes ... but please, continue

The boy continued, relieved that someone cared about his concerns.

- Well, I feel misunderstood, at home, at school, everywhere, and although my parents are very good, I think they are not happy with me, especially since I started playing the guitar, because I stopped applying myself in studies. It all started when I fell ill last winter, and I became very weak. I was very discouraged and without appetite, so they gave me a guitar and that helped me recover. It was like medicine for me. So since then every time I play my guitar I feel something very powerful inside of me, and everything else no longer matters to me. It actually all started the first time I heard Chuck Berry on the radio. I knew then that nothing would be more important to me than getting to play like him. Whenever I listen to Chuck or Elvis I feel very euphoric, but other times I really want to cry ... Dad says that I am at a difficult age and that all this will pass me, but I think not ...

The man took a deep breath trying to contain the emotion he felt. From the tree, the swallows watched that incredible scene.

- You have friends?

The boy pondered a bit before answering

- I had them , but as I fell ill I lost contact. Well, now I have Paul, but he is older than me, and it seems that I annoy him ... His friends say that I am small and they do not want me to go with them, but Paul is nice to me, although it bothers me that he calls me little brother. Another of his friends said that I was a "nonentity" and that hurt me a lot. Since that day I try not to talk to anyone, because it seems that I do everything wrong ...

The stranger's eyes watched him as if all the understanding of the world fit in them.
- Do you feel better being alone?

The boy was silent before answering

- No, but...
- But...? - asked the stranger
- Sometimes it is necessary. I don't know if you understand me

The man smiled sweetly

- I understand you
- Really?
- Yes, I already told you that you are not the only one

- Well ... - the boy hesitated - I can't help being affected by criticism. happened to you too?
- Much

Another deep silence reigned between them. Then the stranger spoke:

- And you, what opinion do you have of yourself?

The boy frowned doubtfully before answering:

- Well, you see, I wouldn't know how to answer you, I only know that before playing a guitar I was one way, and after having done it, I am someone else, and I can never be the same again. My problem is that others have not realized it, and they think they are just things of age.

Another silent pause added more excitement to the moment.

- I understand you perfectly - said the man

The boy smiled satisfied that the stranger understood him

- Oh thanks! Until now only Paul had understood this, because he also plays the guitar, but when he is with his other friends he changes with me, and he treats me like a little boy and that hurts a lot, that's why lately I want to be alone. I haven't seen myself with Paul for a few weeks, and that also depresses me, so I don't know what to do ...

The man listened to him attentively, feeling that the moment had come.

- Do you want some advice?
- Yes, tell me

The boy stared at him

- Don't be separated from Paul ... never. Be his shadow and everything will be fine.

The boy opened his eyes wide again

- And why do you tell me that? ...
- You listen to me and one day you will appreciate my advice - replied the man, winking at him.

- Okay, I will, but do you know Paul? - Asked the intrigued boy.

The man smiled amused

- Much…

The boy had stopped crying but he did not come out of his astonishment.

- Are you a relative of Paul?
- No, but almost ... - replied the man with a jovial expression on his face
- Well, Paul never told me about you… won't you be a secret relative? - asked the boy
- Hahahaha
- Or maybe his uncle from Scotland?
- Hahahaha

The laughter of the stranger echoed in the place while the boy watched him intrigued.
He was dressed in slightly worn jeans and his hair was a bit long. He also had a beard; His smile was wide and bright, and he reminded her of someone, but he still didn't know who.

Maybe he was a magician ...

The man who read his thoughts sat on the ground next to the boy and asked him:

- Do you have any more problems, boy?

The kid narrowed his eyes trying to remember. The swallows kept watching.

- Well, many. You see, at home we are poor and Dad has to work hard for us to get ahead. I care a lot about him, and I know that he is not happy with me because I do not study, and I would like him to be proud of me,
but I think I'm going to be a failure because i do not like studying and I only think about guitars ... I have suspended the last exams, and even mom is upset with me for that reason. Do you see? because of the guitars it seems that everything is going wrong for me and I don't know what to do. Maybe I should completely give up the dream of being a guitarist, even if my heart breaks ...

The man pursed his lips sternly

- Are you going to abandon your dream of being a guitarist? - he asked the boy

- Yes, I'm thinking about it. I know that Dad will be happier and calmer if I apply myself to my studies and Mom too, but I will never be able to be happy again away from a guitar.

Suddenly the boy cried inconsolably again as he said:

- Do you see? I am very unhappy

The man looked at him intensely and was silent for a moment before asking:

- Do you love your parents?
- More than anything in the world, and they to me too - answered the boy strongly
- So why are you crying? You have no reasons
- What does it mean? - asked the boy
- You are very lucky…

The boy frowned

- But, if nobody understands me, gentleman. Everyone thinks I'm a nobody ...

The man laughed at the boy's melodramatic tone, then put his hands on his shoulders and said in a serious tone:

- Listen to me well, I must go, but first I must tell you one thing. Never stop playing the guitar, for nothing in the world. Cling to it as to life; Follow Paul everywhere, trust him and be his friend. Thank God for the family he has given you and don't hide to cry again. And another thing, he is still a good boy, just like now.

The boy was watching him dumbfounded. The man might be a deranged or an ex-con, but he seemed very nice, and he said nice things to he.

- Oh, you must be Paul's cousin …!
- Hahahaha

The swallows flapped their wings satisfied as if they wanted to applaud the scene.
From the moor, the stream continued to flow with the serenity of all the centuries.

The boy touched his wrists and groaned in pain

- Damn it, how they hurt ... The Teacher hit me hard.

The man took the child's hands and gently massaged them, then exclaimed:

- These hands are going to play many guitars and they are going to compose very beautiful songs that the world will applaud. No one will ever say that you were a "nobody", or a failure. What's more, the day will come when everyone will say that you were a blessing, and they will be proud of you.
So now you are going to wash your face in the stream, you are going to go home and give your parents a big hug and tell them that you love them very much, and that you are a lucky boy to have them.

The boy looked at him spellbound, thinking that perhaps he was in front of an angel.

- Well, sir. I thank you for your good wishes - he said shyly - but ... I don't think I'm going to be a blessing ...

Suddenly the man put his right hand on the boy's forehead and took a deep breath.
The boy closed his eyes and an image took shape in his mind.
What he saw took him by surprise, and was incredible!

He saw himself with a few more years, much taller and very well dressed, accompanied by Paul and two other boys he did not know yet, playing on stage. He was not surprised to see himself playing the guitar, what surprised him greatly was seeing the impressive audience that was around them. It was an immense football stadium, packed with people, all shouting a word that he still did not relate to.
Something about the "beatles …"

He also saw his name next to Paul's, and next to the names of those two other boys shining on the marquee of many theaters; He saw himself climb down the stairs of many airplanes and walk through the airfields praised by the crowds. He heard his name and that of his three companions come out in form of screams from the mouths of hundreds and hundreds of teenagers, while a smile on his face was frozen in the photographs of time. He finally saw himself strolling through the halls of Buckingham Palace as if he were a celebrity.

My God! Was tremendous!

When he opened his eyes, the stranger had disappeared, and the swallows too

The boy, strongly impressed by the conversation and by the images he had seen in his brain, headed to the stream, washed his face, grabbed his backpack, and ran home just in time to grab his slice of blueberry pie.
He hugged his parents and told them how lucky he was to have them. He also winked at her neighbor's daughter, a very pretty girl, her age, freckled and with long brown hair, and tried to befriend her. Before he would never have dared to speak to any girl like that.

He was elated by his enigmatic encounter with the stranger and sensed that perhaps all those images that he had seen in his brain would ever come true.
His swollen wrists no longer ached, nor did he care what the teachers said. He was a lucky boy.

He never told anyone about his mysterious encounter with that man, nor the images than had projected into his brain.
However, that fabulous secret helped him to carry on with his dream of being a guitarist in the future.

As advised by the stranger, he became Paul's inseparable friend, following him everywhere, and sharing the same hopes and dreams with him,
and that was how he managed to enter the band that a certain John Lennon had just created and that in a few years was to shake the foundations of music all over the planet, achieving an unprecedented fame in history and in the entertainment world.

You already know the rest of the story …

***************

The being returned to his immaterial universe, satisfied with his encounter with that little English boy. It had been something very emotional to see him again, and to feel again the concerns and anguish of that time, since no one knew the interior of that child better than he, because it had been his own all the time he was in the material world.

George was very grateful that his first mission as an angel was to interview himself as a boy, to encourage him at a time in his teens when he was especially puzzled, considering putting down the guitar and stopping talking to Paul.
Throughout his life George had always thought that that moment in his life had been decisive in changing his story, and he never remembered what it was that made him change at that moment and continue with his dream of being a guitarist.
Now in his new nature as an angel he understood the situation, he understood everything and thanked God for having given him such a wonderful material life.
Right away he assimilated his new mission and instantly his being was flooded with bliss.
He had to meet an old friend...
Although this time he did not have to go down to Earth, because like him, his friend had no corporeal form and gravitated in spirals of luminous and pure consciousness.
It was a pending issue.

He had been wanting that reunion for years.

All of his energy was concentrated in one point and expanded again. He felt almighty.
God's work was a masterpiece,
Everything had a reason, and a resolution.

Far away, from some bright point in the Whole, he felt the energy of his old friend draw closer and finally melt into a cosmic embrace with his own.
After an emotional silence, the consciousness of what had been John Lennon whispered:

Hey, lucky boy! Long time no see. How are you doing in eternity?

END

Yolanda García Vázquez
Spain
October 2021
Copyright reserved

He was so humble that he would only have said that...
For this reason we love him so much ❤

Your most beautiful song was your smile...💖

We invite you to follow our Instagram account. George Harrison Mysterious Angel. It's for all George fans.
Thanks ❤️

instagram.com

George Harrison, that sweet and quiet boy...
❤️

I ME MINE

All through the day
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
All through the night
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Now they're frightened of leaving it
Everyone's reading it
Comin' on strong all the time
All through the day
I me mine
I me me mine, I me me mine
I me me mine, I me me mine
All I can hear
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Even those tears
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
No one's frightened of playing it
Everyone's saying it
Flowing more freely than wine
All through the day
I me mine
I me me mine, I me me mine
I me me mine, I me me mine
All I can hear
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Even those tears
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
No one's frightened of playing it
Everyone's saying it
Flowing more freely than wine
All through your life
I me mine

George Harrison

"Sunrise doesn't last all morning;
A cloudburst doesn't last all day;
Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning.
It's not always gonna be this grey;
All things must pass;
All things must pass away."

George Harrison
All things must pass

Coming home to the Beatles...
❤️

"I look at the floor
and I see it needs sweeping,
still my guitar gently weeps."

George Harrison

George Harrison
A movie galan, but much more handsome ❤

We miss you, George ❤
25 Feb. 1943
29 Now. 2001

Regarding George's personality, we believe that the best definition is this phrase that we read some time ago on the Internet :

"George is like unicorns, one in a million."
Anonymous

'People say I'm the Beatle who changed the most, but to me, that's what life's about."

George Harrison

"There are souls that one wants to peek at, like a window full of sun."

Federico García Lorca

New video of YouTube ❤️

THE BEATLES "THE HAPPY SUMMERS" The Beatles "The Happy Summers"❤️🌹Youtube ImagesHelp 1965 and Beatles home videos.Background musicObladi Oblada coverTill there was youRealizationYolanda Ga...

Three years with George in...
GEORGE HARRISON APPRECIATION SOCIETY
Thanks ❤️

CONGRATULATIONS
The Beatles The Magic Continues
The Beatles Appreciation Society
Third Anniversary _____

This week we celebrate the Third Anniversary of our page and our group.
It has been a spectacular and magical journey.
Congratulations and Thank you all ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Our celebratory cover of the George Harrison Appreciation Society

CONGRATULATIONS
THIRD ANNIVERSARY
George Harrison Appreciation Society
George Harrison_ The Most Beautiful Boy In Rock
❤️❤️❤️❤️

Congratulations to all. On this day, in 2020, we open the doors of this page and our George group to pay tribute to a music legend. It has been an exciting adventure in which we have made many friends from all over the world, and we have shared our love and admiration for the most beautiful boy in rock. Thank you very much to everyone who supported us at the beginning, and to everyone who helped us get to this point.

"Can't say what I'm doing here,
but I hope to see much clearer,
after living in the material world."

George Harrison

"I don't know how someone controlled you;
They bought and sold you.
I look at the world,
and I notice, it's turning
while my guitar gently weeps..."

George Harrison

"All things must pass...
None of life's strings can last;
So, I must be on my way,
and face another day."

George Harrison
(All things must pass)

"Silence often says much more
than trying to say what's been
said before."

George Harrison
(That is all)

“If you don't know where you're going, any road'll take you there."
George Harrison

George loved the color purple, it was his favorite, and sometimes he wore purple clothes. The color purple is associated with nobility, spirituality, magic, and creativity.
💜💜💜💜

Our first published photo of George.
Three years ago.
His smile is our emblem ❤

"Isn't it a pity?
Now isn't that a shame?
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
no more thinking
forget to give return
Isn't it a pity?"

George Harrison
(Isn't It A Pity)