When I was a little girl, long before my decision to become a radically devoted follower of Jesus Christ, I loved Valentine’s Day more than any other holiday. It was a day about love which featured two things I especially adored: intimate notes in tiny envelopes, and candy hearts in pastels or chocolate. I couldn’t wait to decorate my box—the lovely aluminum-foil-covered box decorated with construction paper hearts pierced by fringed arrows, my name in large pink letters. Each year, I was woozy with possibility that a formerly-undeclared love would be revealed in a valentine deposited in my Kinney’s Shoes box.
I like you. Do you like me?
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