Be Mine

This time of year, with red and pink heart-themed decorations adorning grocery stores, doctors' offices and private residences, many thoughts turn to love. Everyone seems to know that Valentine's Day is a big conspiracy, a holiday contrived by card and candy making companies to fill the gap between Christmas and Easter, yet consumers continue spending millions of dollars on February 14 every year. I think it's because we all want to believe in love, even the most badly "burned" victims. I think it's nice to focus on love and romance, particularly in a world so full of hate and disillusionment.

Growing up, I remember getting excited about choosing which Valentine cards I would hand out at school. For weeks before the big red day we would construct all sorts of heart-shaped crafts, among which would be a box for collecting each others' cards. In elementary school it was all about the glittery cards, ones that came with stickers or, better yet, the ones that came with candy. We could care less what was actually written on the cards; boys and girls still had cooties then.

It wasn't until junior high that I started paying attention to what my Valentine cards said. It was also the first year I received chocolate from a boy. His name was Andy and he played in the band with me. He loved Monty Python and was the first boy to hold my hand. I got him a red model car for his birthday and he threw me up into a fireman's carry, just to show me that he could. My gift for Valentine's Day: a See's Candies cardboard treasure chest, filled with gold foil-wrapped chocolate coins. It was probably one of the best Valentine's Days I have ever had.

In high school, Valentine's Day became much less fun, mostly during the years that the boys I had a crush on didn't know I existed or had girlfriends of their own. It was when I first started experiencing the darker side of "V-Day." Lots of time spent resenting all males on the planet, lots of chocolate eaten and romantic comedies, either bitterly ignored or tearfully endured. Yet I still look forward to this holiday every year. I look fabulous in red.


One year in college, my barbershop quartet decided to post an ad for singing telegrams. We would sing "Orange Colored Sky" or our theme song "Telling It To The Daisies" and present a single red rose to the selected person. (There was a very near disaster involving the roses and I had to use some roses from the bouquet my dad had sent me instead.) We had matching red shirts with shiny threads sewn in and we wore black slacks to complete the outfit. 

I think we charged $25 for our services, but only two people wanted us, and after the cost of our shirts, the roses and gas to drive to our gigs, we only made about five bucks each in the end. It was so much fun though! One wife had us come to her home and sing to her husband--he was flustered and it was so cute. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Years ago my family started the simple tradition of writing "I love you because" Valentines for each other. I think my mom started it as a means of getting me and my sister to stop fighting so much, but it was nice to read those positive messages. Even the prophet instructed us in a recent General Conference address that families need to say "I love you" more often to each other. It's not enough to imply those feelings.

One card in particular from my dad stands out in my memory. It was the first Valentine's after I announced I was in love and unofficially engaged to the man who is now my husband. The card had some typical cute message printed inside, and underneath it my dad had written: "From your first love!" It was very sweet--a dad acknowledging that he would soon be giving away his little girl to some strange guy :p

I still enjoy Valentine's Day, despite the few bad and lonely years. I'm a romantic, and I believe in love even during those times I do not have it for myself. And the pinks and reds sure do liven up the dreary, wintry places in the world.