The best portion of a good man’s life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
—William Wordsworth, “Lines Composed a Few Miles Above From Tintern Abbey”
Oh, mi amour, love is a many splendid thing. No other emotion has its own holiday except love. Just this week, couples celebrated being in love. Sweet cupid played a tune for all the world. Hypnotized by his charms, people gave their loved ones cards and candy to celebrate.
Then there was the rest of us who had the pleasure of watching another butt-filled night of “NYPD Blues.”
So I am bitter about this holiday. I am bitter about most things like Carl’s Jr. not selling crinkle fries anymore, but its the fact that I’m not sure of the validity of St. Valentine’s Day.
It all started in elementary school when everyone was forced to give everybody else a card. I always gave really nice cards to everyone. I was so caring. I threw out that one stupid card contained in every box saying, “Be my friend” because I did not want anyone to think themselves rejected if I gave them that card.
But could the other 6-year-olds do this? No, they had to give Rosie the one reject Valentine’s Day card.
I thought that was bad until I entered high school. On Valentine’s Day the junior class sold balloons to be distributed to each homeroom.
Not only did I receive only one cheap latex balloon, given to me by my friends who had pity on my boyfriend-less self, I had to be in homeroom with the social elites.
I sat at my desk intensely listening to each name being called.
“Wendy,” one student screamed.
“Valerie,” said another.
Then Jill, Deborah, Rashid, James, …and yet maybe one Rosie in the whole bunch of balloons.
Bah humbug.
Maybe my problem is not the holiday itself, maybe it is the fact Valentine’s, like Christmas, has lost its meaning.
Can love be judged based on how many cards or balloons you receive?
Valentine’s Day is but one day a year. The human race spends the rest of the year walking over one another. We do not have time to do loving deeds, but we have plenty of time to run on down to the mall to buy a dozen red roses.
Love is something that not even the greatest romantic song can touch. It lives in the actions of people like Margaret and Reginald Green.
It was not Valentine’s or Christmas Day, but on Oct. 3, 1994, the Greens, of Bodega Bay, Calif., gave the greatest gift of love. Their 7-year-old son, Nicholas, died the night before, a victim of a botched robbery in Italy. They unselfishly donated his organs for transplantation to the same Italian area where their son was slain.
I had forgotten about their gift of love, but was reminded of it when “CBS This Morning” dedicated a part of its Valentine’s Day show to great gifts of love.
Imagine losing your youngest child. All your hopes and dreams for him are dead. Rather than hate the country where Nicholas was slaughtered, they gave the biggest gift of love possible, his heart, liver, kidneys and cornea. Now that’s love. No card in the world can explain why they did this.
Reginald Green said they loved their son so much, they donated his organs in order for Nicholas’ love to grow.
The Greens will never be able to purchase another Valentine’s card for Nicholas, but they don’t need to because they gave a great parting gift to their son–continuing his life.
All these years I was bitter because I never received enough cards or balloons. The truth of the matter is I had received too much. All anyone truly needs to give another person is unconditional love, 365 days a year.
Cupid can keep his holiday, but I’m going to try and celebrate it everyday and without counting the number of cards received.
