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kiss ralph wiggum Small paper cards covered with red hearts, chalky candy printed with blurred messages and high expectations are how it all gets started back in grade school. How many did you get? What did yours say? Did you get one from so and so? Those are the questions that are most frequently heard asked in noisy classrooms across America on this wintry day in February. One of my earliest memories of Valentine's Day is from grade school. I am guessing that it was either second or third grade, but I'm not certain. As to what an eight or nine year old really knows about genuine love is beyond me, but at that age I was very eager to see what Julie was going to give me for a Valentine. Panic would probably be a more accurate description of my mood that day. I had no idea what was going to happen and I had to find out as soon as possible. Let me back up for a moment and explain why I was so excited. At that tender age, Julie was the source of all my woe and happiness. I was fixated on her and I can't exactly remember why anymore, but in my mind she was going to be my girlfriend. One had to have a girlfriend and she was the one that I had chosen to be mine. I probably chose her, because sometimes the two of us would walk home from school together and during the ten to fifteen minutes that we were together she truly seemed to have fun with me. Getting back to the classroom, I had chosen a very special Valentine's Day card for Julie and overheard that she had something special for me as well. Hearing this piece of news was almost more than I could handle. I had to know what she had said to me in her card. Then after much waiting, it finally happened. The class as a whole exchanged their gaudy little pieces of paper and we as a group could see where love existed. I dug through my box until I found one that had Julie's handwriting on it. On the front of the card was a seal (the kind that swims in the ocean not a wax one) and inside was some silly message that said something to the effect that I made her bark or clap with joy. The exact phrasing doesn't matter. What does matter is that it dawned on me when I read the card that she didn't care at all about me. She knew that I had had feelings for her and she had decided to toy with my emotions by raising my hopes. One might even say that she led me along the entire day. I was crushed. So why would I as a grown man dwell on such a sad memory? Does it still bother me? Do I resent what happened to me? Should Valentine's Day be banished from the classroom to prevent others from being hurt? My response would be that no I am not scarred by said memory nor do I think that I was the only person who experienced such a thing. All that I wanted to do was point out how what is supposed to be a simple day of fun quite often causes more than a few hurt feelings. The things that children endure as they grow up never ceases to amaze me and I am surprised that people so easily forget that childhood is anything but carefree. Since that early Valentine's Day memory, I have experienced many others. Some of them have been very sweet and others have passed without any strong emotions. Obviously the props used in the event have changed. Small paper cards have given way to flowers and fancy meals, but the overall excitement is the same as when I was a young boy. What is she thinking? Does she feel the same way about me? What does she want from me? How can I make her happy? Does she know she makes me happy? All of these new questions and feelings have been added to the mix as an adult and make me wonder how can one day in the middle of winter generate so much emotion. |