I’m getting ready to send Valentine’s to all the grandchildren and started thinking about how much I really love Valentine’s Day and as a little girl how fun it was to get something in the mail. I’ve often wondered if my lifelong fascination with mail didn't begin somewhere early in grade school, on Valentine’s Day. There was always a delicious excitement hidden inside those small white envelopes – even when my name was printed backwards, misspelled, or smudged by the small fingers of my classmates.
Would I receive a card mysteriously signed “Billy A” from the most popular boy in the room? On the other hand, would the boy I considered “a drip” send me one? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they both did? And – although quality should have been more important than quantity – would I get as many cards as my best girl friend got?
Valentine's Day generated a lot of fuss when I was a youngster. Beginning early in February, our class discussed the construction of the Valentine box. As a first and second grader I always looked forward to the frivolity and bright colors.
Covered with red and white crepe paper and festooned with hearts, arrows, and cupids, my finished mailbox occupied a position of honor on the corner of my desk. I remember having a large red arrow pointing to the wide slot on top where on February 14th we would deposit our personal stacks of mail.
At least a week before the day itself, my mother and I would make a special trip to the dime store to buy a box of colorful Valentine cards – 50 for 19 cents. My hand often stiffened as I signed my name 35 or 40 times. I tried very hard to match the right card to the right classmate.
Messages on the “penny” Valentines have remained fairly constant through the years. There is the tall, smiling giraffe on the front with a message inside proclaiming :Valentine, I long for you” or a cowboy with a red heart on his vest, swinging a lariat and announcing “Valentine, I’d like to steer you my way”, or a fat, red beet announcing “Valentine, my heart beets for you.” We giggled at every one of those corny jokes, too.
Every year for as long as I can remember, Annette and I would hear the doorbell ring on Valentine evening and there on the front porch would be a chocolate Valentine with our name on it. I always imagined it was from a secret admirer, never dreaming that my mother had bought them and had a neighbor leave them on the door step.
Valentine’s Day traditions haven’t changed much over the years. You children still made a mailbox decorated with hearts, cupids and arrows. I can’t remember when we became embarrassed about sending Valentines, but as a parent myself now, I’d guess it’s along about sixth or seventh grade. One’s reputation is at stake, after all, and a great deal of teasing might result from sending a particular boy or girl a card that has been designated as “mush”.
Somewhere, though, deep in a dresser drawer or far back on a closet shelf, those crumpled brown paper bags have been saved from first grade on. They seem to be a corner of childhood that we’re all reluctant to part with – a silly or sentimental time when we could ask each and every person to “Please Be Mine, Valentine.”
There is something that lives in a valentine, a message sincere sent to a special friend or friends on Valentine’s Day. Each traditional word, thought, and meaning, as it was in the days of old, gives the Valentine a high rating.
Valentines these days are much more expensive, yet the price that is paid is no factor if the sender can convey exactly the way he feels from within.
How sweet to get a Valentine of plain or fancy art,
A rose so pink and violets, too, or satin covered heart.
But more than beauty or design, we prize the words that say
The sender’s love comes with the gift in quite the warmest way.
We like to know that someone cares, that someone wants to do
The kindly deed that makes us feel well loved and happy, too
So why not give expression then, to love for friends so dear,
Not only on one certain day but many times a year?
Our valentines may be a smile, a cheerful word or two,
A helping hand, a tender glance that signals, “I love you.”
And if we often take the time to give these friendly signs,
The world will soon be brightened by our daily Valentines.
“PLEASE BE MINE, VALENTINE.”
Love, Mom/Gam/Jeannine
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