This is not an anti-Valentine's Day message, as tempted as I am to write one. No, this missive is in honor of a time when the red-and-pink holiday was still exciting. Back when "Faith" was on every radio station, when my hair curled in a ponytail, and my feet were still in Zips.
Every February 14th, I remember finding a little treat at my place on the breakfast table, courtesy of Mom and Dad. I always dressed the part for this special day: a red jumper or pink tights, a length of red yarn in my hair. It all seemed so exciting when I was eight. I couldn't wait for the class party, the cupcakes, the chalky hearts with their dusty words. The best part was the little pocket made of construction paper that hung solemnly from the blackboard. If I was lucky, I would find a variety of colorful squares (or hearts) of glossy paper with my name on the outside. Beaming, I would clutch them to my chest, cherishing the cartoon messages. I couldn't help but count how many Valentines I got (especially noting how many were from boys!).
Valentine's Day was sweet then, a day of cupcakes, paper hearts and friends. At night, I would fall asleep smiling, with my favorite Valentine tucked underneath my pillow.....already looking forward to my next red-and-pink day.
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