Columnists
Peace, love and cards
On this snowy Sunday before Valentine’s Day, I am reminded of the Valentine’s Days of my childhood. Back to the time when, several days before Valentine’s Day, my mom plopped a couple of books of paper cards and envelopes on the kitchen table, sat all of us down with scissors and a bottle of Elmer’s glue and said, “Get cracking.” Those of us who had scissor skills cut out the cards and envelopes. Those who had the folding skills creased and dry-assembled the cards and envelopes. And those of us who had the gluing chops, stuck the whole mess together.
The finished pile was then “eenymeeny- miney-moed” out and we set about to address the love notes to our classmates. Mom always made sure we had enough to give one card to each person in our class, along with one for the teacher and one for the school caretaker. Love was all around that table—as much as it can be with a bunch of siblings. And, as I said before, there wasn’t a choice about who got those cards. Even the stinkiest, most obnoxious classmate got a card from the Durning kids. Cooties didn’t cut it with my mom. In the end, we knew it was the right thing to do. In doing the deed, the Durning kids were often teased for being sweet on the class underdog. As you may remember, no one really wanted to be singled out for that! Then or now.
February is the month of love and heart. At the school the Durning kids attended, there was a cardboard Valentine mail box, decorated with hearts and flowers, on the teacher’s desk. When we arrived on the appointed Valentine’s Day, we “mailed” our cards. Most of the day we sat anxiously at our desks, waiting for moment when the teacher decided we had behaved well enough and got on with the delivery of the cards. Our names were called out by the teacher and the teacher’s pet handed out the cards.
In my elementary school days, every classroom had one perky kid who ended up with an enviable pile of cards and one kid who only had one or two. On that day, at least one mom would have sent cookies or Rice Krispie squares for the whole bunch. Often, it was my mom who provided the treat-love. Valentine’s Day in St. John’s School was an emotional day for some. Not everyone was someone’s “ginger peachy”.
Fast forward to February, 2017. Many of us are feeling emotionally overwhelmed these days. The POTUS isn’t exactly a cuddly, loving fellow. He doesn’t bring out the best in the world. Where is the love and world peace that his beauty pageant contestants would wish for when they stood under the bright lights? Indeed, where is the love and world peace that is on our own wish list? You and I know what we have to do to achieve peace and love. The problem is we just can’t get past our hangups about having the last word, or being righter than right, or having all the toys or the upper hand. We feel threatened by gross injustices and terrorism. We strike out at anyone who is different. Evil, personified, has crashed into our lives, and it’s easier to argue about it than stand up for what’s right and fix it. Every corny Valentine I sent, back in the day, and every mushy Valentine LOML and I send nowadays, is sent with the secret wish for love and peace and understanding.
Maybe it’s time to send a Valentine to the stinkiest, most unloveable kid in the world—but first he needs to stand in the corner and think about all the cooties he’s spreading.
Comments (0)