Valentine's Day

I must confess that Valentine's Day was never high on my list of favorite holidays but each year I must confess that I seem to enjoy telling my Valentine's Day Story.

My Valentine Story

When I was in grade school we celebrated Valentine's Day every year and there was one year in particular that I always seem to recall.

The memories of my third grade Valentine's Day party still come drifting back to me and I can not erase them. In fact, when I was still working, some of my friends would actually encourage me to tell the story to anyone who had not yet heard it.  I decided to oblige on Valentine's Day.  Each year on Valentine's Day I would find myself relating the story to a couple of people gathered in the lunch room.

This is what I remember.

Our teacher, Mrs. Conrad, returned from the main office with a stack of papers.  She had run them off on a mimeograph machine, which as I recall, made blue ink paper prints. These were early day copy machines. She passed them out and was sure to see that every student received one. It was a complete list of all of the children in our class. She told us we would need this because next week we were having a special Valentine party in the afternoon.  Of course by February most everyone knew who their classmates were but this was the complete list so you wouldn't forget anyone.

A party meant no classes after lunch. Even though I was only in third grade I could appreciate getting out of classes.  I even volunteered to help make the mailbox.

We decorated a big cardboard box with lace and hearts and placed it on the teacher's desk. During the next week kids would bring in their valentines (mail) and place them into the special box on her desk.

My mom took me to the Woolworth's store where we purchased a packet that contained 30 cut out valentines. We purchased a separate card for the teacher and I was all set.  There were 30 students in our class and I had 30 cards.  I sat at our dining room table and filled out all of the cards by myself.  I was very proud of my accomplishment as I sat and copied the names off of the mimeographed sheet on to all of the cards and sealed the envelops.

I took my cards to school on Monday even though the party wasn't until Friday. I kept an eye on the big box and each day someone would shake it to see if it was close to being full. It seemed like a long time but the big day finally arrived.

The bell rang and lunch was over. The party was about to begin. Mrs. Conrad was in charge and the person sitting at the front of each row was appointed postman and would distribute the mail. They opened the box contents right out on top of the teacher's desk and the postmen began their job. They walked up and down the aisles delivering the valentines. I watched the girl right across from me as her cards accumulated and she had a pile, maybe 8 or 9 and I still hadn't received my first card.  Connie was a pretty girl and very popular. I guess it really was no surprise that she would have lots of cards. Finally a card was dropped on my desk.. It was from Jimmy Riggins who was sitting right in front of me.  It seemed like all afternoon passed before a second card came and I opened it very slowly. It was from our teacher.

The teacher then made a special announcement as a young girl we had never met was wheeled into our classroom. Her name was Ellen and she was actually supposed to have been in our class from the beginning of the year.   She had a type of advamced leukeimia and was not able to attend. The teacher had worked very closely with Ellen's mom during the school year and they decided to bring Ellen to the party to see her class. She had made special valentines for all of us. Her mother wheeled her up and down the aisles as she handed out these big hearts. Ellen gave me a large white valentine with blue stars. It came with a big smile and it was my final card of the day.

I never saw Ellen again.  The valentines were all handed out.  Standing in line, as I was waiting for the bus I clutched my three cards close to me. Valentines from Jimmy, Ellen & Mrs. Conrad.  The bus ride home seemed long and slow traveling over the back roads of Schuylkill township. I sat in my seat and tryed to fight back the tears. A couple made it to my cheeks but I quickly wiped them away. I think I managed to get off the bus without anyone noticing. There are those times when you think everyone is watching you (and they are not).

I was so glad that I arrived home from school before my mom and dad returned from work.  If I was lucky they wouldn't ask me about school. What a relief when no one asked how the party went. My mom and dad both worked in factories and were tired when they got home. Something I didn't fully consider at that age but later came to see it as an advantage. Several years later I sat on the bus and reflected about the party that had occurred in third grade.  I think that was when I realized the full implication of this improvable occurence and how it had affected me. Thirty kids took a list home with my name on and 28 had removed me from the list.  It certainly defined the word unpopular. I found it incomprehensible.

I sometimes think if I could go back and do it over I might fair better.  When I remember, the number still remains three. 

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY,

BILL