A Valentine Memory

I'm remembering my favorite holiday from childhood to celebrate in school.

I used to love to cover an old shoebox in red and pink construction paper and turn it into a mailbox to eagerly await valentine missives and candy tokens of affection. I equally loved to labor over my valentines the night before, matching each small paper card befitted with pop- culture characters and silly messages to its seemingly intended recipient and inscribing it with personal messages for each of my classmates. The excitement of dumping out your valentines after each was dolled out only rivaled the excitement aroused by the actual delivering of these little epistles. Each of us our own version of a mailman with our mailbags full of love, tip-toeing about the room depositing the fruits of our labor.

I long for the inclusiveness that the elementary valentines day afforded. The innocence, acceptance, and love of such a little community of peers that later had to be traded in for middle school chub, 6.00$ cards and a sense of social pressure that cast compassion off into a corner.

And now it all seems so far away. Valentines Day is just a day like any other. But the fond memories of unconditional elementary love inspire in me a sense of appreciation and a hope to once again be able love and accept people enough to posses the ability to pick out the perfect small card for them and drop it into their mailbox.