was on the mission.
One might ask how does that even work, let alone make SENSE?!?!?
Yeah, I know. It sounds super weird. But it's true. The best Valentine's Day I ever had was in Florida. I was a missionary, and I wasn't even writing a boyfriend. Okay, I didn't have a boyfriend. Lame, I know. But I really didn't care.
The guy who sold flowers on the corner of the intersection by our apartment gave each of us a rose.
One of the families we were teaching would make floral arrangements and put together gift baskets to sell in the grocery store parking lot for holidays. Luz and Lina gave us each a balloon and a rose.
The young women made Valentines to sell for a Girls Camp fundraiser. Cora got us each one that had a rose attached. And another Hermana from the ward also got us each one.
There was probably a couple of other people who gave us stuff, and Mama Denson sent stuff, and my mummy sent stuff, too. All in all, by the end of the day, the Spanish sisters had collected enough roses to have a dozen roses. It was a 'shabby chic' collection of roses (which means that none of them matched, but hey, when you're a missionary, you take what you can get.)
It was the second time in my life I had gotten a dozen roses, but this time it was soooo much better! They were a collection of the people who I loved and cared about.
In Spanish, it translates to Dia de Amor y Amistad, or Day of Love and Friendship. That's what Valentine's Day should really be about. It's not so much about the candy, presents, the chalky hearts (ps...i love the sour ones), and the flowers, but rather remembering those who are special in your life.
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