Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends. I hope you all mark the day with flowers or chocolates or a few snuggles.

Last night it snowed a bit, enough to cover the walk and the car. I thought even that small amount of snow was overkill. It is Mother Nature run amok. I can see her now with her strands of hair flying in all directions. Her flower crown is dead. Her lovely flowing dress is filthy and torn, and her face has a snarl just for us. There is an evil gleam in her eyes. Run for your lives!

Valentine’s Day was one of my favorite days in school. We’d spend a couple of afternoons turning lowly shoe boxes into decorated Valentine’s boxes. I’d cover mine in red construction paper and make a slit on the top for all the valentines I expected then I’d decorate the paper. We’d leave it in school until the special day.

My mother would buy each of us a box of valentines. They had pictures on the front, and the sayings were usually puns: two ears of corn, “Shucks! I’d like to ‘ear you say you’d be my Valentine today”, or the turtle who shell always love me. Can we swing along together? That one, of course, had two kids in a swing. The kids always had red cheeks and big smiles. Clocks were common, “It’s time you were my valentine.”

The night before the big day I’d sit at the kitchen table and write out my valentines. I’d decide which of my classmates would receive one and put a name on each envelope. The worst part was fitting my own name on the back. Kathleen is a long one, and for some reason we always used full names so Ryan had to fit in there somewhere. In the morning, I’d carry my cards as if they were masterpieces, and I’d carry the cupcakes my mother had made for the afternoon party.

School that day was a loss. Arithmetic and spelling were no competition for valentines and a party. Finally, after lunch, the nun would have us clear off our desks. We’d get our boxes and get ready. She’d call us row by row, and we’d drop the valentines on desks as we walked. I can remember hoping and hoping to get one from a boy with whom I was smitten. In the second grade, smitten was about the best we could do. If I got one, I was giddy.

After all the rows had finished giving out their valentines, the party began. The food was up front for the taking. I remember lots and lots of red cupcakes, some sugar cookies and conversational hearts. My friends and I would sit and open our valentines together. I remember a lot of laughing, a lot of little girl laughing for that’s who we were. I don’t remember being disappointed, but maybe that’s something forgotten. I remember the fun of opening those cards, of eating a chocolate cupcake with red frosting, but I mostly remember carrying home my treasures in my beautiful Valentine’s Day box.