A Very Special Valentine Story

— Valentines Day is drawing near. The first time I got a gift on this holiday was right after Jerry and I began dating when I attended 11th grade in Gravette. He bought me the loveliest blue music box. ( I was extremely disappointed when he didn’t get me gifts on February 14 after we got married.)

February 14 also brings back memories of when I attended school at Southwest City. The school was so small that two grades were in the same room, not too different from the one-room schoolhouse I ‘d gone to my first three years. I was in the fifth grade in the room with my brother Paul, in the sixth grade.

Early in February our teacher, Mrs. Wilson, surprised us. “Class,” she said, “today we’re going to choose someone from this room to be king and queen for Valentines Day.”

As we went to recess the playground buzzed as the girls discussed who they’d pick for queen. I knew it would be Sharon. She was the daughter of the biggest merchant in Southwest City and she was so pretty, with her dark curly locks of hair. But she was also nice to me even when the other girls laughed at my clothes and wouldn’t play with me.

After lunch the girls wrote Sharon’s name on lined notebook paper, or the name of a best friend for the few who were loyal. We placed our bits of paper in the girls’ voting box. The boys giggled and poked each other as they wrote down their votes. Any number of boys might be worthy to reign with Sharon.

The girls’ votes were counted first and everyone gathered around Sharon to congratulate her. But when Mrs. Wilson announced the unanimous vote for Paul as king the boys roared with laughter. Cute little Sharon blushed and hid her face. Our teacher scolded the boys for not taking this seriously.

My face flushed in embarrassment. Everyoneknew it was a joke. Everyone except Paul. Sitting at his desk in his faded overalls and scuffed shoes, he beamed because his classmates had chosen him to be king. It mortified me even more that he didn’t know.

After school I heard the girls as they gathered around Sharon to console her. I felt such fierce loyalty toward my brother, while at the same time feeling shame that he was the brunt of the others’ trick. My heart sank as I noticed the boys snickering about it. I could imagine how hurt Paul would feel when he found out about the prank.

One evening Paul took me with him to gather eggs. Inside the hen house he lifted up a board under a plump, white chicken and took out a paper sack with money in it. He grinned with excitement as he told me, “I’ve been selling a few eggs each Saturday when we go to town.”

On the morning of Valentines Day Paul spent extra time combing his unruly hair. He dressed in his dark blue suit and he’d polished his shoes until they shone.

After the bell rang, Paul made his grand entrance into our classroom. Faces registered shock. Paul headed straight for Sharon and gallantly handed her the box of candy and presented her with red roses.

No one snickered. No one said a word. Sharon smiled up at my brother and whispered, “Thank you.” Even Mrs. Wilson seemed impressed as she crowned the king and queen.

Afterwards we drank punch and ate cookies and the boys slapped Paul on his back or shook his hand. Girls who hardly ever spoke to me crowded around saying, “What a handsome brother you have. He makes a great king.”

Yes, I remember the year my brother was crowned “King for a day”!

You’ll enjoy Marie’s Valentine story this week. Do you remember a special valentine you received. . . or gave?

Opinion, Pages 4 on 02/03/2010