Happy Valentine's Day!

Beloved:

    One Valentine’s Day I volunteered to help a neighbor’s kids get ready for their first class parties.  I went to the store for cupcake ingredients and five kids’ worth of boxed Valentines.  I picked up the other three and sat them at the table with my two youngest.  I told them to write their cards while I made nine dozen cupcakes.  My kids were done and ready to go outside in fifteen minutes.  Two hours later, the new kids were still writing.

    Did I mention the other kids were immigrants?  That classroom party was to them yet another unfathomable wonder of American public school, along with cafeteria lunch, playground and school nurse.  When my kids explained they’d get a card from every kid in their class they felt it only fitting to write a personal note to each one.  Did I mention English wasn’t their first language?  My kids explained, “Nah, just sign every one and then we can play.”  Their dad explained, “How about you help them write theirs?”  Everyone ended up staying for supper, and as usual my family received so much more than we gave.  

    My kids and my neighbor’s are all grown and scattered now, working or in college.  Some have become U.S. citizens and the others will someday.  I wonder if they remember their first American Valentine's Day and how much they taught me and my kids about privilege:  about a life so safe, so secure, so calm, that education itself has space for something as silly as a classroom party of cards and cupcakes.