"THE VALENTINE'S BOX"

The gaily-festooned box, painstakingly decorated by four pairs of enthusiastic little hands sat in its place of honor in the middle of the dining room table. It was Valentine's Day, 1952, and as was the custom of the Mayo Family, the Family Valentine's Box was ready to be torn asunder to reveal its secrets.

For weeks prior to this special occasion, the Mayo children gathered scraps of ribbon, lace, paper doilies, rick-rack, and Valentine's greetings from previous years. White butcher paper acquired from Lynn Gibson at Gibson's Grocery on Main Street was the covering for the confiscated cardboard box, and was carefully wrapped and taped to cover every part of the brown corregated carton. Only after the bright whiteness of the butcher paper provided the perfect canvas were the decorations thoughtfully created and carefully applied. Each child had a contribution to make both with their ideas and handiwork. The finished product varied from year to year, depending upon the age of the children and also upon the variety of trims and treasures collected earlier.

When finally and unanimously declared "finished," the Box was carried to the center of the buffet in the dining room where it would sit in silent splendor for a week or so before the big day, welcoming small pieces of handmade artwork slipped into its somewhat crookedly-cut slot at the top. Greetings made for our parents, our brothers and sisters, and even the family pet and favorite stuffed animals were objects of our affection and would be remembered in this home-spun way.

Day after day thoughts of what the magical Box held became more obsessive. The Box obviously became heavier and harder to lift as each day passed and with each ounce of weight came truck-loads of excitement! What was really IN there? Perhaps someone actually had the money to put some candy in there! Why was it so heavy? Did one of the boys decide to put rocks in there just to throw the girls off? Our imaginations ran the gamut from glee to dread, relishing but almost fearing the unknown.

And then the big day arrived. Frenzied last-minute additions were slipped into the by-this-time bulging Box, hoping that an extra remembrance to our loved ones might bring about some special recognition later when toys were to be shared or chores swapped. The decorations, once firmly attached and vividly painted were by this day somewhat bedraggled and askew, tired and quite ready to put an end to this nonsense.

If we had special "traditional" dishes served at our Valentine's supper, I don't remember them, but I do know that Momma or big-sister, Pat, as she got older, always saw to it that there was a cake for desert, covered with gloppy, gooey pink icing! It was placed on the buffet beside the Box while we hurried through our supper, hardly able to contain our anticipation at the ritual to follow. And then, finally, after Daddy finished his coffee and Momma gathered the empty plates from the table, space was made ready to transfer the lopsided, torn, fingerprint-smudged Box from the buffet to the end of the table where either Daddy or Momma would preside over the opening ceremonies.

Great care was taken by the opener of the Box to make sure that the knife used to enlarge the slot would not accidentally cut into someone's creative masterpiece. Eyes grew wider and hearts thumped louder as the door to our long-awaited wonder slowly opened. And then, with all of the pomp and dignity that the occasion could muster, the Valentines were handed out . . . "To Patty From Sue Sue," "For Mickey From Daddy," "To Tim From Momma," and on and on, until each family member had a stack of interestingly-shaped momentos stacked in front of them. It seems that amongst all of the handmade notes and carefully crayoned pictures, there was always that special treat that we knew came from Momma and Daddy that consisted of not only a "store bought" greeting but that cellophane-wrapped bright red lollipop affixed to the card's front. Laughter and "thank yous" chorused 'round the table as cards made out of everything from scraps of gift wrap to wallpaper samples were admired by their recipients and ideas were stored away for making even bigger and better cards next year!

Meanwhile, amongst all of the clatter and confusion, the gloppy, gooey cake was cut and served and a bowl filled with small candy hearts was passed around . . . a special treat from our Momma and Daddy to their children. Daddy and Momma had that extra cup of coffee with their cake, and as the children hauled their bounty around with them, not wanting to let the magic of the evening end quite yet, a long sigh could be heard from the parents still sitting at the dining room table. "Another year, another Valentine's Day survived!"