Valentine’s Day has all of the expectant and
obligatory momentum of a guilt trip. Participate not and one may be accused of
heartlessness. Send a smarmy message and one might be construed as giving in to
commercialism. And yet we teach even the children to send candy-grams and to
give such cards to their friends, teachers, and... Well, one’s sincerity on the
occasion is readily quite suspect. Thing is, Valentines might best be aimed at only
one specific person by each of us; to let go many arrows with but one bow is
rather Kostner-ish. Cupid lets loose shafts like Robin Hood!
M’Lady Nancy concurred. There seems to be a plethora
of newspaper and TV advertisements for Valentines. And although we might
celebrate any of the several mythologies as to its origins, it hardly is worth
the fuss over something that one Priest Valentine did circa 400’s A.D. in
defiance of Emperor Claudius 11 who enforced celibacy among his Legionnaires. Valentine
married off young lovers, despite conscription. It was noble, compassionate, and
filled with sensibility rather than sentiment. But our current commercial practice
certainly plays on the sentimentality of it all.
So too for any obligation, tradition, custom. It is
worth examining! Otherwise one may subscribe too unwittingly, too insincerely,
too readily to societal demands. Yet all occasions warranting celebration are
made so by years of enculturation. As such they have their significance. They
have their undeniable truths. Penelope would rightfully be feeling overlooked
were I to ignore her birthday, or not to wish her a merry Christmas. So it is.
But the point is, if you’re going to do it, make it sincere. Keep it real. Else
we but kowtow to society, go along with, and submit to the status quo. As it
is, there are three if not more stories as to whom the real St. Valentine was!
Among the many artifacts re-discovered on this February
14th of my 40 day and 40 night mission is the flimsy square of an
air mail card to M’Lady, dated 23 January, 1944, addressed to Miss Nancy
Street, No. 5 R.A.F. Hospital, M. Egypt. It is post-marked from Mill Hill,
London. The stamp is a 6d George V1 (a sixpenny). On opening it there is the
proverbial pen-and-ink arrow through the red crayon heart. The feathered tail
at the bottom left corner at once penetrates a smaller heart, and the big
letters between the small and the much bigger red heart at the top right reads:
‘Guess Who! And How Many’. Top left hand corner is a poem: ‘The rose is red,
the violet is blue, the grass is green, and so are you!’ At the bottom right is
a more substantial endearment: ‘Ah sweet and gentle stranger, Amongst men of
tearful woe, Do not err from by their manger, And those that love you so. Do
not lose that smile from Ward One, Check that kind heart from a fancy; Don’t
forget your boys can win One, But their names can’t all be Nancy!’
M’Lady, now at 90, then at 21 (to be precise,) looks
up from re-reading it, and says, “From Mill Hill Hospital patients, where I
worked before Cairo. Well, see, they had nothing better to do!”
We act often on impulse. It takes the measure of much
time and truths to perhaps end up acting the exact same way, but at least thereby
to act for real. And so: Happy Valentines!
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