I was in Ms. Daugherty third grade class at Seals-Mathis Elementary and I was eight. By the end of January we were being reminded that Valentine’s Day was approaching as we cut out red hearts to decorate our classroom, and Ms. Daugherty told us to be sure to buy our cards before Turner’s Drug store sold out. At home, Mama was doing her usual rant about spending money on Valentine’s cards and the whole event. Being Baptist and an environmentalist she never seemed to understand the concept of St. Valentine’s Day, the idea of romantic love, or why you buy cards, sign your name, and then throw them away. It was all a waste of money, time and effort when you could just simply tell someone you loved them. Of course, Mama and Daddy never gave Valentine’s Day cards. She also said I was way too young to be thinking about courtin’.
This year I had my eyes on Fred Johnson. I knew he liked me because he chased me at recess and when we played, “Red Rover, Red Rover” Fred always tagged me to run to the empty link in the circle. I also knew that Fred flirted with Glenda Clonce. I had known for weeks that my most special Valentine would go to Fred. The only problem was how to say what I felt for him. ‘I love you’ seemed too extreme, and I knew Mama would kill me if she discovered I had put that on a card; and signing my name wasn’t special enough, so I finally decided to put, “Your special friend, Patsy.”
As soon as all the kids got to school on Valentine’s Day we put our valentines into the big red crepe and white hearts box that sat on Ms. Daugherty’s desk. We wouldn’t distribute them until the end of the day. Early that morning Fred came up to me and Glenda and said, “I shore do like both of you girls, and today, by the end of school, I’m going to decide which of you I like the best.” Pulling a large red apple from his pocket, he continued, “I have brought this apple from our farm and I intended to give it to the one of you I like the best!” Well, from that point on the competition was on between Glenda and me. She tried her best, and I tried my best to earn Fred’s affections all day long. In one day’s time we were now competitors and this was serious business. Glenda shared her lunch with Fred; I helped him with his spelling words; we both yelled, ‘choose me’ when we broke into teams for the spelling bee. Meanwhile, everyone had heard about the contest and had picked sides. The apple had been passed around, dropped, bruised, thrown back and forth, and now looked more like an old Christmas ornament, but because it signified being ‘the chosen person’ it was a valued thing.
Three-thirty finally came in the longest day of my life at the time; Fred was ready to make his announcement. With about half the school, especially the 3rd,4th, and 5th grade classroom, gathered around him when school was dismissed, Fred made the announcement. He said, “I’ve decided which one of you girls I like the best.”
“I’m going to give the apple to…………………….GLENDA.” I lost! I was sad, humiliated, angry, and through with Fred! That’s when I learned my very first lesson in love.
No boy is worth waiting all day long for a sorry, half-rotten apple!
This Valentine’s Day take the time to tell your children or grandchildren one of your love stories, or a story about a valuable lesson you once learned about love. They need to know more about you.
Patsy Hatfield Lawson is a former professor, therapist and award winning storyteller who helps companies, associations, and non-profits, adapt to changes around them. Visit her website at www.patsyhatfieldlawson.com
