A Tale of Two Valentines

​When I was a girl, I had a friend Elizabeth who lived up the street. She was an only child to a single mom -- a young and gorgeous single mom who used to wear lingerie to mow the lawn, much to the delight of most of the neighborhood men.

Her mom wasn't super attentive or engaged, though I did get treated to dinner at the Ritz Carlton in Boston one unassuming night by Elizabeth's mom and her MUCH older gentleman caller. 

Her mom also introduced me to the simple pleasure of a plate of sliced strawberries dipped in PURE SUGAR -- a luxury never offered at my own home. 

One Valentine's eve, I slept over at Elizabeth's house. She had told me that her mom did something special on Valentine's Day and she was excited for it. She regaled me with the story of how each Valentine morning, she awoke to a string outside her bedroom door and she would pick up the string and follow it to her present -- usually chocolates and other pink and red treats. 

Elizabeth was an only child and -- no offense to any only children out there -- was not always prone to sharing. So we went to bed with visions of the Valentine treat Elizabeth would get and I was hoping she would find a morsel of kindness inside herself and share some with me. 

Imagine my surprise and delight when we opened the door in the morning and there were TWO strings. And at the end of those strings, TWO white sparkly bags filled with the most beautiful candy I had ever seen. One was just for me, from Elizabeth's mom. 

As I got older and had kids of my own, I always remembered the consideration and generosity of Elizabeth's mom and how she made me feel included in a special ritual I'd assumed existed just between the two of them. 

And I have never forgotten that moment for a single Valentine's Day since. That feeling of opening the door in the morning and being part of something really special and indescribably sweet.