Who Would Be My Valentine?

This is just another day, I told myself on February 14 as I looked around the bookstore I managed. The shelves overflowed with heart-shaped gifts, valentine cards and bright-red books with "I Love You" on the cover, but I wasn't feeling very loved. My longtime boyfriend had recently left me for someone else. My parents were far away, working overseas. No one would be offering a valentine to me.

Putting on a friendly face, I made small talk with the customers. I helped one frantic teenager choose a teddy bear for his best girlfriend and a chocolate rose for someone he called his best-friend girl. One young woman spent nearly an hour picking the right card. "I think he's going to propose tonight," she gushed. I forced a smile and counted the minutes till closing.

Just when I was about to lock up, a white-haired woman came in. She wasn't a regular, but her face seemed familiar. Have I seen her browsing here before? I wondered. She walked up to me, smiling broadly, and held out her hand. I looked down at a tiny, heart-shaped pincushion, covered with delicate red fabric and lace. "I made this for you," she said.

I didn't know what to say. I took the gift, cupping it in my hands, stroking the soft fabric and admiring the fineness of her craft.

"I'm a widow," the woman said. "Most of my friends have died, but I still sew these valentines every year." She turned to look at me on her way out. "There's plenty of love in this world," she said. "I believe we should share it."

I never saw her again, but when Christmastime rolled around—yet another holiday when I got the blues—I remembered her example. I packed inexpensive makeup bags with comb, toothpaste, mirror, scented soap and perfume samples, and wrapped them in bright paper as gifts for the women at a local shelter, who are often forgotten even if their children are given presents. A holiday is just another day after all...another day when we can fulfill God's commandment to love one another.