No Valentine for Elsie

by Donna Poole

It was coffee and “meet and greet” time, the half hour between Sunday school and church. The flavor must be mocha today; it smelled heavenly, but Elsie sat where she was. It took too much effort to stand and navigate with her walker back to the counter where the hospitality group served coffee, donuts, and smiles. Instead, she did one of the few activities left to her with her limited mobility; she people watched.

It was fun seeing the children come out of Sunday school carrying homemade valentines, soggy with too much glue, and proudly present them to someone they loved. None came to her, of

The last time Elsie had held a valentine in her hands had been ten years ago just before Harry had died.

Harry had celebrated Valentine’s Day every year. Their first year, a lean one, he’d made her a valentine, put a tablecloth on the table, set out their best dishes, and served her dinner by candlelight. True, the dinner had been just peanut butter sandwiches; they were all out of jelly. And the music was him singing, “More” in an off-key imitation of Andy Williams, but he’d done it all with tender sincerity, and it had made her cry. And he’d managed to bring happy tears to her eyes for fifty-nine more Valentine Days. She still had the last valentine, number sixty. On the hospital napkin he’d drawn hearts and had written, “I love you more every year. Would you marry me again?”

She kept the last valentine in her Bible, next to I Corinthians 13:8, where it says, “Love never fails.” Harry’s love had never failed. It still warmed her heart, but ten years is a long time not to hear a single person say, “I love you.”

She and Harry had never had children. And they’d both been only children themselves, so there were no nieces and nephews to call and say, “Aunt Elsie, I love you.” How she missed those three words. She expected she’d never hear them again until she got to heaven, and she hoped that would be soon. Ten years can be a long time. Ten years alone can feel longer than sixty years together.

God’s love was a great comfort. She whispered one of her favorite quotes to herself as conversation flowed around her. She’d found it in a book by Hannah Hurnard she’d read once. “For He loves each one of us as though there were only one to love.”

God’s love should be enough, Elsie. And it is enough. But surely God understands how I’d love to hear a person say it.

Elsie shivered and pulled her sweater tighter around her frail shoulders. It’s cold in here today. I wish I’d stayed home. At ninety years old, no one would blame me for not attending church in the winter. But I do want to keep coming as long as I can.

She felt a small hand touch her shoulder. “Miss Elsie?”

She looked up into Becky’s sparkling brown eyes. Red bows adorned the little girl’s long brown braids today, perhaps in honor of Valentine’s Day.

“Miss Elsie, this is for you!”

Becky handed her an adorable paper bag. The sides were red and white stripes, and the front had a red heart with an arrow through it. Elsie fingered the red and white braided handles. She looked inside the bag and saw four cookies. Two of them had pink frosting.

“Thank you, Becky! Did you help your mom make the cookies?”

Becky shook her head, and the braids swung side to side. “No. They aren’t from us. I don’t know who they’re from. I found the bag on the gift table and brought it to you.”

“Oh, honey, the cookies probably aren’t for me. You better put the bag back on the gift table.”

“It is for you!” Becky insisted. She turned the bag around and read the tag, “Elsie, Happy Valentine’s Day! You are loved and prayed for.”

“How very kind!” Elsie blinked back a few tears. “It says I’m loved.”

“Course it says that. Everyone loves you. I love you too!” Becky hugged her. “Do you want me to get you some coffee? I can carry it without spilling it if someone puts a lid on it for me.”

“I’d love a cup of coffee.” Now tears were running down Elsie’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Becky looked like she was going to cry herself.

“Nothing, honey. It’s just that I’m happy to be loved. I love you too.”

“Okay. Grownups cry about funny things.”

Becky skipped off to get the coffee, and the auditorium didn’t feel quite so chilly anymore to Elsie.

The end

***

These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:

Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

I have six other books on Amazon as well, four fiction books in the “Life at the Corners” series, and two children’s Christmas picture books.

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