Way back in Grade 2, my homeroom class exchanged Valentine cards. We each had a small folder taped to the front of our desk and at the start of the day we would go from desk to desk distributing little "Be My Valentine" cards to friends and sweethearts. The process took about five minutes and when I returned to my desk I was crushed. My folder was empty.
While everyone shared their cards and popularity, I quickly got rid of my folder into my desk and acted like everything was fine.
When anybody asked how many cards I received, I just nonchalantly changed the subject or asked about their cards. I was humiliated and felt very alone. I wasn't the most outgoing student to start with, so this event didn't help my self-esteem. I didn't even share the news with my parents. I was simply too embarrassed to let them know.
But that was that, a moment in time. Years later when I had a daughter of my own, I shared the story with her. She was crushed for me and has tried each year to make up for my loss. To me it was no big deal, but it was my wife Angela who made this year's Valentine's Day so special. At the stroke of midnight, she handed me a folder filled with "Be My Valentine" cards. There were cards from friends, relatives, and anyone she came in contact with the week prior to Valentine's Day. She even had my 12-year-old niece have each child in her class fill out a card.
For a matter that was forgotten in my past, it was such a nice gesture and something I will never forget. Thank you Angela. I love you.
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