Remember when we were kids and spent hours making valentine cards, and later the craft was forgotten because it was easier to buy them? And how excited we were to receive the red heart with a cupid's arrow from the cutest boy or girl in class, and the giggles and teasing that went along with it? Then, too quickly, we were grown up and the emphasis was on a red, cellophane-covered box of chocolates or, if we were abundantly cherished - red roses? Ah, the sweet joys of youth!
Regardless of age, most of us occasionally recall things as they used to be, the endless possibilities for a love-filled life; that one perfect love. While in my youth, I don't recall there was much ado about the fact that it all began with a Saint? Even now, we seldom hear the word associated with Valentine's Day. Maybe we need to be reminded of the origin of that special love-filled day.
And so one legend goes: Long ago, a man named Saint Valentine died for his beliefs. He was a prisoner of an evil king because of his refusal to deny his belief in God. Then God sent a miracle:
Saint Valentine had a great love for his wife and he wanted her to know of his love one last time before his execution. One day a pigeon appeared at the prison window, a pigeon he recognized as one from his home. Before his imprisonment, he and his children loved to feed the birds and this special one would eat right out of their hand. The appearance of his little friend brought him much comfort and he shared bits of his food with the spotted creature while wondering about his problem - how he could prove his love.
A rose bush also grew near the prison window and on it bloomed one beautiful red rose. It was close enough to smell and touch and reminded him of the love he felt for his wife. Since he had not paper or pen, he wondered how he might get a message to her. Then an idea came to him, he could share the rose with his wife. He reached through the bars and carefully plucked the rose from the stem. The thorns pricked his fingers until they bled.
He decided to write words of love on the rose petals and give them to the pigeon, hoping the bird would take them and fly away to his house. His wife would find them and know that he still loved her.
His prison bed was a lowly pile of straw. He plucked a piece and used the sharp end to press the words, "I Love You" on the rose petals. The bird would take the petals from his hand, one at a time, and quickly fly away. This continued until all the petals were gone.
On the appointed day of execution, emissaries of the king asked him again if he would renounce his belief in God, and he again refused. The guards removed him from his cell and cut off his head. He had been true and faithful, true to his wife, true to his love for his God. True love demanded a price and he paid it.
Great iron bars at the window kept the prisoner in, but the bars did not keep Saint Valentine from sending out his love. Saint Valentine was free.
You might ask, "If there were prison bars on his window, then how could he be free?"
The answer is: When yhou love, and when you believe in something as strongly as Saint Valentine did, no one can lock away your love. A jailer can imprison your body but not your feelings; they remain safe in your heart.
No matter what bad things happen, if a person feels love for someone and believes in something, his belief sets him free. The Valentine is a symbol of love for others and the rose a symbol of hope and the sharing of that love.
When you see a rose, think of how Saint Valentine loved his wife and family, and look for someone you can love in the same way. Then, every rose will have a special meaning. Thorns are an important part of life, but love can grow more meaningful and deeper if one can overcome their sting.
To quote James Michael Pratt, the author of THE LAST VALENTINE: "As long as love is alive, the dead never die. It's not in the end alone that we love, but along the way. A love that endures the thorns of life calls out to us. When we listen, it lights the ground on which we walk and we know that we're not alone. When the flame of life flickers out and is no more, the love you showed to others will light the ground for them to walk upon. "
Happy Valentine's Day. Marie Pinschmidt http://www.paintings-prose-palmbeach.com
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Comments: 10
Have a great day. Marie
When my daughter was young, we always made her Valentine's Day cards to hand out at school, and they were always the most popular because they were so unique.
Marie Pinschmidt
Dear Marie - this was a very beautiful story and I thank you. It was a wonderful read and I'm sorry that I'm just now reading it. I'll never forget it. Salud
Mariana, what a nice surprise to get your comment. Thank you. I've read your profile and some of your posts and must say enjoyed every word. We have much in common. I'm a writer and painter - and lived in New Orleans for eleven years - so I relived some memories by reading your comments. I have two published novels with N.O. and the bayou connections. I'm now doing the final edit on "Spanish Moss" which takes place totally in New Orleans. Being an artist, you would enjoy the first book "Man on the Balcony". Maggie, an artist, spends a year in New Orleans and the reader experiences the city and all it offers through her eyes.
My late husband was an ophthalmology professor at Tulane Univ. We absolutely loved living there and visited the bayou country many times - River Road, Evangeline country, etc.
You must be a scorpio, as we enjoy many of the same books, authors, music, etc. I learned to paint in N.O. and responding to my creative urges has kept me sane. You know exactly what I mean!
Louisiana will always live in my heart. I'd love to share a dozen blue crabs with you. I'd also love to see some of your art. I'll check to see if you have a web site.
Let's be friends. http://www.paintings-prose-palmbeach.com