She carefully sorted her Valentine cards, setting aside the one for the teacher. Just one card read “Will you be my Valentine?” This card made her little heart patter with excitement. She was smitten by Joe, the smartest kid in her third grade class. He was perfect in her eyes and even his crowded front teeth made her smile. No one in her family of eight knew that she would one day marry Joe. How could they understand?  Her four- year-old sister was too young to grasp these things and her brothers, all three of them, would tease her to the point of tears. Her two older sisters thought of her as a mere child. Just one other person she could trust, her best friend Anita. Anita was petite in size, she was kind and sweet, and only she knew how the little girl loved Joe.

It was Valentine’s Day, the day she would know for certain if her true love would reciprocate. The bus ride to school seemed to take forever, and all she could think about was the cards she and Joe  would exchange. Her unspoken love was about to reach a new zenith, and it was a lot for an eight-year-old to bear. When she entered her classroom she quietly took her seat toward the back of the room. They sat in alphabetical order, and always among of the last ones. She wished her last name started with a “P” like Joe’s instead of a “U”. All day long, lunch, two  recesses she waited for the card. The art project that day was to make a holder for all the Valentine cards; she cut and pasted, and the end product was perfect for holding that one card from Joe. Fifteen minutes before dismissal, the teacher announced that it was time to exchange cards.  The girl’s eyes widened with excitement and she pulled her brown bag with the Valentines. You could hear the giggles as all the children took turns in handing out their cards. It was Joe’s turn, and as he came toward the little girl, she put her head down. This was it, she thought to herself, now I will know how much he loves me. The bell rang it was time to go home. She held that one card tightly in her hand and opened it. The card had a picture of a kitten holding a heart which read “You are sweet, Valentine.” What! No! No! this was not happening! She looked over at Anita.  Anita was smiling, almost to the point of gloating. The same card, purchased at Woolworth’s, that she set aside for Joe, was in the petite hands of Anita! Joe loved Anita, not the little girl. She wanted so badly to cry that it hurt, but she remained strong. The bus ride home was torture, and sitting next to Anita added to her heartbreak.

Yes, this is my first memory of Valentine’s Day. I have no idea whatever became of Joe but I do remember that he broke my heart that day.

Valentine’s Day has become a huge marketing ploy; the statistics are staggering with over $13 billion spent annually on this holiday. The average consumer will spend $161.21 on Feast Day of St. Valentine. Remember that it is about love and not the gifts. (I have to keep repeating that to myself).

St. Valentine of Rome is the patron saint of love, young people, and happy marriages.  St. Valentine was put in prison by the Emperor Claudius for marrying couples and professing his faith in Jesus. While he was in prison he healed a jailer’s daughter of blindness, and on the day of his execution, he left the girl a card signed “Your Valentine.” This is the reason we exchange Valentine cards.

A few years ago during Lent, my son-in-law Russ asked me if I wanted to meet him for a prayer session. Me? Pray? And with another family member? Needless to say I was excited. Russ gave me an address on Tustin St. in Orange, but I could not find the church. I called him and he explained that is was at someone’s home, and to just follow the address. This led me to Planned Parenthood. I was baffled and called Russ again. He instructed me as to where to park and told me he was almost there. I was uncomfortable and a little upset with the situation not being presented in an honest manner. The truth is that if Russ had told me where we were going, a big emphatic NO would have been my response. Russ explained to me that this was part of his penance for Lent. I looked at him, and asked him “Why would you assume that it was mine too?” I added that God did not make this my penance, He did not call me to do this.  Boy was I wrong. The Lord did call me to be there at that very time and as much as I protested, I knew in my heart that it made a difference.  Before this experience abortion was an “out of sight, out of mind” stance and now I was face-to- face with the opposition. I felt like an oddly potted tree in the middle of a  concrete sidewalk . It took a while to ease into the role and to finally lift up my head.  I prayed. First for the doctors, and then the assistants and all the other workers who were employees at the clinic.

A car pulled in with what looked like a mother and her very young daughter. I felt the pain for both of them, not judging them but praying for them to make the right choice. I was scared for the young lady, what I could see from where I was standing, she looked confused and sad. The mother refused to have eye contact with me and just my presence made her uncomfortable. I was the physical conscience for those who passed through the wide drive way. I was not holding any signs depicting how the procedures are done, because I could not find in myself to that.

Shortly after the the mother-daughter incident, came a young immature man, with loud music was blaring from his vehicle. He and his female companion made their way past the driveway.  I prayed for them as well. All of us knowing that the decision that they were about to make would change the course of their lives forever. Some of you reading this may say it was for the better but this is not true. You can look up the statistics for yourself, if you question my writings. The damage from these heinous acts is not easily removed from the subconscious mind.

Lent is 40 days and when you make a commitment, remember it’s not to be taken lightly. When Moses was on Mt. Sinai in the presence of God for 40 days and 40 nights without eating or drinking anything, he was transformed (Ex. 34:29). His countenance changed and his face was bright red from being in the presence of God. We should all experience a transformation during the 40 days of Lent. Our Lord was tested in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights, with no food or water. This was to prepare Him for his public ministry. (Mt 4:2-6). The number 40 represent victory.

Yes, give up your sweets but don’t forget to incorporate prayer during your fast.

Prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father, I come to you today to seek your face. During these 40 days of Lent,  help me Lord, to set aside special time for prayer. Lord transform me into the person you have called me to be. I graciously accept your perfect will in my life. Dear Lord, let me be an example of love to others, especially to those that struggle with their walk. Heavenly Father, you were with your Son Jesus in the desert, you were with Moses at Mt. Sinai, so be with me as I go 40 days in the wilderness to seek you. Make my face shine as you did for Moses, from being in your presence. Amen

The surprise planning started in February of last year. In April, I noticed several emails from Rome confirming hotel reservations. Curiosity got the best of me, and the investigation revealed the anniversary gift that Mike worked so hard to keep secret.

Mike’s goal was to have a romantic dinner in Rome. At first, I thought the weather in January would be a deterrent, rain, and possibly snow, and then I questioned the time frame? My daughter Sonja snapped me back into reality, reminding me of an ungrateful behavior. She was right, and I was humbled yet again.

Mike was nursing a cold, and the flight up was miserable, coughing and sneezing the entire way. He was focused on the trip and graciously stuck to the travel plans. Upon our arrival at the Roma Cavalieri, I mentioned that we were celebrating our 45th wedding anniversary.  Maria our hostess shared our excitement and upgraded our room with a view of the Vatican.

Monday was a day of exploring the familiar site of the grand city. Walking for miles with few visitors in the city makes you feel like a local. The women so chic, no tennis shoes, no workout clothes just beautiful puffy coats, designer handbags, and leather shoes or boots. Ladies, leave your bulky Uggs at home.  I caught a reflection of my 7 year old leather coat and felt a little outdated. I mentioned to Mike “Am I the only one wearing leather?” He laughed in agreement.  I never purchase clothes in Europe because of expense and the sizing is really insulting. For instance, if you are a size 12 in the states, here it would be in the fifties. The only thing that I buy here is shoes, and at 50% off, who can resist. Yes, they have the inexpensive brands like H&M, but these are on the main streets like Via del Corso. The boutiques along the small cramped cobblestone streets each uniquely selling one of a kind fashions and every thing was on sale. Soft American music was playing in the background of every business we entered, everywhere we went the American music followed us.

Our dinner experiences were great for Mike, but not for me, ordering the wrong thing was a constant, Mike is a foodie so he knew exactly what to order. Towards the end of the trip, as if I were a child he took over ordering my meals. The Romans love octopus, truffles, and artichokes must be in full bloom because most pasta was laced in the odd vegetable. The bread, stuffed with olives and breadsticks sprinkled with sesame seeds are delightful and plentiful.  The red wines, especially the Chiantis did not disappoint, I rarely drink wine with dinner but here it’s a different experience.

Months before the trip I made arrangement for the audience with Pope Francis by visiting: www.visitorsoffice@pnac.org. Via email, we were instructed as to where to pick up the tickets once in Rome. A stones throw away from the Trevi Fountain is the Pontifical North American College, a hidden gem behind massive dark wood doors. Greeted by a young seminarian with a clipboard and list, he checked off our name and led us into another area. A beautiful fair skinned Sister Anne warmly welcomed us, and schooled us on how to get good seats to see the Pope. With a map of the Vatican and a picture of the room, the nun pointed out where to sit. The winter audiences have its advantages because of the smaller size of the crowds as the meeting are held indoors. The nun told us to arrive early; 7:00 A.M. for the 10:30 visit but my advice is to arrive earlier to secure your spot. Sister Anne said that they had just received 2,000 rosaries and asked if we wanted some. After sharing with her about the ministry, she gave us 200 rosaries and Mike carried them to the Vatican for the Pope to bless. These were the only religious items that I brought back, and they were free.