Josiah's Valentine
Gift
This
tale took place 100 years ago.We used to make Valentines of red paper
hearts with cutouts of cupids, arrows, and
smaller hearts or elaborate paper lace. I can
just see the happy workers in my one room school
getting ready for Valentines day many years
ago. A large box covered with
white paper had a slit cut in it's top to receive
the cards as they were made. Every free moment,
and I contrived as many as possible, was spent
cutting, pasting and carefully copying verses.
One blackboard was devoted to simple sentiments
for the little folks to copy and a book of poems
passed from hand to hand as the older children
chose verses for their friends. The work
continued at home after school where, without
Teacher's eagle eye upon them, the boys turned
out comic greetings for friend and foe
alike. By the 13th the Valentine
box was stuffed so full that homemade envelopes
were bulging out the slot. The room was
decorated with large red paper hearts and two
battered cupids we found in the cupboard "School looks mighty nice, Teacher.
Mind if I add my two bits to the
decorations?" "There." said the artist,
"That's better." "Paw done that,
didn't he?" little Susie asked. The morning's work
went slowly for all eyes and attention were
hypnotically fixed on the Valentine box. There
were other treats in store too, as some of the
children had brought homemade candy and cookies
to pass at the party. Finally lunch time
came. We made short work of our bread and
cheese, then went outside for a quick game of fox
and geese in the new snow. The circle was
trodden heart shaped in honor of the day and even
the older boys played since it was part of the
celebration. The afternoon began with reciting.
Several children had poems memorized, some
appropriate to the romantic nature of the day,
others such as Mike's impassioned rendition of
Poe's "The Raven", not so appropriate. Then,
while an older girl led singing class, I made up
the lemonade and set out the cakes, cookies and
candy on my desk. Mike and Ned were our
postmen. They ripped the box open with great
gusto and delivered an endless mound of mail to
their excited classmates. The boys were not
above reading out a comic verse from a card that
had been only folded or speculating on who had
sent the flowery missive to pretty Carrie, or the
romantic one to Big Jim. Most of the cards were
signed "guess who" or "your secret friend" or
with a questionmark. When the happy hubbub
had subsided we turned to the party food. Pink
frosted cakes, chocolate fudge with whole
butternuts pressed on each square, heart shaped
rolled cookies dusted with pink sugar, and
m'lasses candy disappeared with polite rapidity.
My own offering of candy hearts with mottos
printed on them would be treasured by some,
crunched by others. "Say Teacher, they's one
Valentine left in the box. 'Pears to be for
you." The whole class gathered to
watch the wonder unfold, and wonder it was! O,
wonder of wonders! A glossy red box tied with
pink lace ribbon opened to reveal a lace trimmed
red satin heart with "Be My Valentine" in
glittering gilt letters and within that box -
chocolates. "Where did this
come from,
Mike?" I demanded as gently as I could. "You're
'sposed to guess." the red faced boy replied.
then, seeing that I was more worried than
pleased, he added. "It's from Mr Eldwood. He
planned it with me last time he came calling,
that I should slip it in the Valentine box when
you wasn't looking. Be you mad, Teacher?" My
face was as red as Mike's. We all laughed
together in joy and delight but my offer to share
the chocolates was politely decined for this,
they knew, was a courting gift and not properly
to be shared by children. It was with regret
that I erased the lovely chalk drawing and took
down the gay red paper hearts. There were enough
crumpled paper envelopes to start the fire for a
week but every crumb of cake and cookies was
gone. I found only one piece of m'lasses candy
melting gently around my inkwell. Valentine's Day
was over. The fire was nearly out,
water pail emptied, the room ready for an
ordinary school day tomorrow. I closed the
school house door and began the cold walk home.
A red satin heart full of chocolate hugged close
in it's protective wrappings and a hand full of
homemade valentines warmed me better than a July
sun.
The
trustee at
whose home I boarded drove me to school in style
the next morning. I had a supply of cupcakes and
candy for the party as well as a jar of lemon
juice and sugar to make lemonade, a special treat
for that time of year. When we arrived at the
school my host tied his horse and followed me up
the path. The older boys had already started the
fire and drawn a pail of water for
drinking.
And the trustee took a fresh
piece of chalk in his work worn hand and began to
draw. There appeared on the blackboard such an
elaborate design of hearts, swans, flowers, and
scrolls as I'd never have dreamed possible for
anyone to create.
And he tromped out to his
waiting horses while I stared in amazement at the
loveliness he had left behind.
"Always does.
Ever
year." her elder brother, Mike, affirmed with
gruff pride.
Such selfconscious surprise could only
mean that postman Mike knew more than he was
admitting about the beautifully wrapped box he
brought to my desk.