Hometown Rankin - February & March 2016

Camille Anding
The Time Coin
Sally pulled out her sharpest red
crayon and rolled it between her
fingers as she contemplated her
teacher’s instructions to make a valentine.
The studious third grader couldn’t decide
where or how to begin. It wasn’t that Sally
didn’t understand the meaning of valentines,
but they certainly meant more than pink
construction paper and red glitter.
Some valentines were extravagant – like the ruby ring her dad had
given to her mother. It was the perfect color for Valentine’s Day and
surely pleased her mother. “We can’t afford this,” her mother kept saying,
but it was a perfect fit and dazzled in the light, like her mom’s smile.
Sally knew it must be a treasured and costly valentine. It was a special
lesson for Sally to learn. Love is extravagant.
When valentines can’t be extravagant, they can be creative. Sally loved
the story her mother told her about the time Sally’s parents were dating.
“We were in college and didn’t have any extra money. Your dad appeared
at my dorm with a large piece of cardboard – but he had attached all sorts
of candy to it in the shape of a giant heart. All my friends were envious
of his thoughtfulness and creativity.”
The classroom had grown quiet as all the
students were busy creating the perfect
valentine – all except Sally. She was still
pondering the “what kind” and “how” of her
valentine. She would always remember the
Valentine’s dinner her mom had served. There
was candlelight with their fine china, chicken
strips with valentine-red catsup, pink creamed
potatoes and homemade pink rolls with pink
lemonade. She even brought out strawberry cake for dessert. You could
never put a special valentine like that in an envelope or box. Sally so
wanted her valentine to be creative like her mom’s.
The years passed and time translated Sally into a mother with a
family of her own. Change hadn’t always been good. She was sorting
through her parents’ belongings with only their memories present.
She opened a box brimming with cards and letters. There in the midst
of her mother’s keepsakes was the valentine Sally had made as a third
grader. The pink heart was still edged in red glitter with Sally’s message:
I will love you forever and for always. Love, Sally.
Extravagant? No. Creative? Not really. A treasure? Most definitely.
Sally had given her most precious and inestimable wealth – her
forever love.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest
of these is love.” n
90 • February/March 2016