Member-only story
The Valentine Box: A Bittersweet Memory of Love in the Fifth Grade
Poor Bobby! What was I thinking?
“We need a mailbox for our valentines,” said Sister Celine. “Who will volunteer to make one?”
My hand shot up. I was all about arts and crafts. To my surprise, there wasn’t much competition, and Sister chose me. “Remember to bring the box in early on Valentine’s Day,” she said. “We want to collect them throughout the morning; then we’ll choose our mailman and distribute them at lunch.”
That afternoon, I went home and went straight to my father, at work in our family business, a flower shop and garden center. I told him I needed a Valentine’s Day mailbox for school, and he was right on it.
He found a decent-sized cardboard box and neatly covered it in white florist paper secured with tape. Then, taking a sharp knife, he carved out a mail slot.
The great thing about a florist shop is that the craft supplies are abundant: paper, tape, ribbons, wire, stickers, spray paint, you name it. So it was now my job to decorate the box.
I took it home and went at it with crayons, construction paper hearts on doilies, sparkles, and glue. It was magnificent.
(At least that’s how I remember it.)
