Happy Valentine’s Day

The little cherub Cupid, a symbol of Valentine’s Day, became associated with the holiday because he

was the son of Venus, Goddess of Love and Beauty.

Some say Charles, Duke of Orleans, sent the first Valentine, documented in 1415, to his wife. He was imprisoned in the Tower of London at that time. The occasion was very popular in England and

Scotland. Others believe the day originated in 5th-century Rome as a tribute to St. Valentine, a Catholic bishop.

The first valentine that ever crossed my path was in my family’s walk-in closet, located in the house where I was born on Elm Street. I was very young at the time. I enjoyed helping my mother clean that storage space.

As she began to sort through the contents of the top shelf, I could see sadness overwhelming her. Mother stepped down from the kitchen chair that she was standing on then. Tears welled up in her beautiful hazel eyes. She was holding a beaded purse that once belonged to my deceased elder sister Etta Ann Lynch. Etta died in March 1943. Mom moved the dull chain aside, opened the sizable adult purse, and held the contents before her. The second grader, a student of Miss Dorothy Killion’s class at Alabama Street school, had constructed three or four little red Valentines from art paper and trimmed them with lace one month before she lost her battle to a blood disorder, hemorrhagic purpura. Also, in her hand-me-down treasure were more sentiments to her family, written on wide-lined paper. After that, I brought down the old purse every time we cleaned the closet, just because…

Years passed, and I grew up. The crunchy purse in the closet still held the little girl’s important artwork, sentiments straight from her little heart. The vision is still vivid in my mind.

A fire in 1987 destroyed our old home. The bedroom closet and its ceiling-high contents dropped into the root cellar below. Nothing was salvageable. Many of my parent’s keepsakes were ruined beneath the rubble, including Etta’s purse and, yes, my very special first valentine’s. Once I told you about a vintage valentine in my save box on the shelf. I purchased it at a sale at the home of the late Roy and Mary Pollom. A young boy posted the card to Master Roy Pollom on February 12, 1923. Roy lived on North Walnut at the time.

The sentiment reads, “My heart beats warm, as warm can be, and it is the cause of loving thee.” The beautifully designed penny postcard valentine was signed, “Sammy.”

I received my share of valentines over the years. Lovely flowers are just stored in my memory bank, fresh as new. Candies in pretty boxes with ribbons, none to be seen. And, hand-written sweet talk left me when wrinkles set -in and multiplied. I thumb through boxes of Hallmarks best and Gibson cards gifted me by the Valentino of this household in younger days and smile...

While I was looking for a broken arrow and a shattered heart, I ran across the first love token my young sailor boy gave me back in 1958.

The well-preserved white silk pillow slipcover, trimmed in bright red fringe and purchased at the Naval Training Center in Bainbridge, Md., reads, “Sweetheart, I thought that you would like to know that someone’s thoughts go where you go. That someone can never forget the hours we spent since we met. That life is richer, sweeter by far, for such a sweetheart as you are, and now my constant prayer will be that God will keep you safe for me.”

That made young Mary Lou shed a toothy smile and feel special! One day, shortly after we were married, I ran across a pile of those fancy pillow covers, all with the same verse. One was in a package addressed and ready to send.

The rascal Cupid must have had some broken arrows in his backpack. He grinned like a Cheshire Cat. He grins every time he looks in my cedar chest and sees the unfilled or displayed cover, and again I smile. Happy Valentines Day!

I can be reached by phone at 317-286-7352.