It’s Valentine’s Day — February 14, 2014.
For the past week, my 9-year-old granddaughter, Esther, has been making plans for Valentine’s Day. She cut out flowers from a seed catalog and rolled them into little roses, then pasted them on the ends of popsicle sticks. She was so proud of the “roses” she was going to give to her Daddy. She wrote little cards with handwritten notes for her 3 brothers, Mama and Daddy, Grandpa and me. So when we went to the grocery store, I told her she could pick out a gift for someone. She knew immediately what she wanted — a large arrangement of flowers. While Daddy and Grandpa did the grocery shopping, she checked out every arrangement. She smelled them; she studied every arrangement in the large selection. I thought she would look for a few minutes and pick out her favorite. That’s what I did as I chose a dozen beautiful red roses for my husband, her Grandpa. But NO — she debated in her mind and outloud the advantages of every arrangement there. Finally, she chose a dozen beautiful white roses — for her Valentine — Daddy!
Then Esther worried about hiding the flowers since Daddy had taken us to the store. I told her I would just buy them with mine. You’ve never seen such an excited little girl, not even on Christmas Eve with the prospect of many gifts from Santa. She never did wonder if anyone would give her a valentine. Her joy was in the valentines she was giving.
Early this morning, I was up early, mopping the kitchen floor. I had decided my valentine to everyone would be to make the kitchen sparkle. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen to find another bouquet of flowers and and huge balloon that said HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. When Esther came in, she was elated.
So together, we mopped the kitchen floor and made the house sparkle for all of our family — our VALENTINES.