In just a moment. . .
we determine if love truly is more than a noun–a person, place or thing. . .
In just a moment
we determine if love truly is more of a verb
Where what we give to others
we get for ourselves
Where we take what’s in pieces
and stitch them back together
Where we find that a heart can weather
anything and still beat out a life
worth sharing
February 14 or not
IN JUST A MOMENT
A Forever Valentine’s Day
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A B S U R D
A VALENTINE’S DAY CHRISTMAS TREE
o r. . .
A Reality we should all be making true
not EVERY once in a while but
EVERY DAY. . .
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Here’s to Valentine’s Day
never being just a day and
YOU PROVING IT. . .
if you want to be a part of
making the UN-REAL,
ULTRA-REAL
then you’ll enjoy these stories Sara Aridi, a staff editor on the Home team, where she produces the home screen and mobile app. She joined The Times in 2016.
Witnessing Kindness and Love in Unexpected Places
Ahead of Valentine’s Day, and now way past it, we asked readers to share moments when they stumbled upon acts of affection. Here are some of their stories.
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Has this happened to you? You’re going about your day, minding your business. Then you suddenly spot a caring interaction that lifts your spirits, like a couple embracing or a stranger lending a hand to another.
These days, the world could use a pick-me-up. Ahead of Valentine’s Day, we asked readers to share when they unexpectedly witnessed an act of love or kindness. More than 100 readers wrote in with stories of affection, from years ago or just recently. Here are a select few, edited and condensed for clarity.
I’ve been walking in my local park more often. My heart has been moved by two friends who meet every morning. They are male and likely in their mid-80s. They arrive separately, each with coffee and a Dunkin’ Donuts bag. They sit on adjoining benches, six feet apart. One doesn’t start his coffee until the other is there. They aren’t particularly talkative with others in the park — I’ve tried. Their focus is on one another.
— Grace E. Curley, Boston
My 90-pound Bernese mountain dog, Lilly, has a neurological problem that makes her fall down. This causes her great distress. My golden retriever, Katie, came over to Lilly this morning after she had fallen, and licked her on the lips. Then she took a nap and snuggled against her canine sister.
— Penny Nemzer, Greenwich, Conn.
After months of staying at home, my 2-year-old son was not excited to be around strangers. That changed when he started day care. One of the first friends he made was Dennis, a construction worker who works near his school. Dennis often gives a high-five and a fist bump before my son lists all the new words he’s learned. He looks forward to this interaction every day, and Dennis never disappoints: He is always there with a big, welcoming smile.
— Smita Jayaram, Jersey City, N.J.
As the morning bell rings, one of my Grade 3 students would enter the school lobby holding his younger brother’s hand. My student would carefully help his brother remove his mittens and unzip his jacket. Then he would tenderly kiss the top of his head before they split up for their own classrooms. Such a loving and responsible gesture.
— Sheila Bean, Calgary, Alberta
Riding the bus years ago, I noticed a young man suddenly stiffen and slide sideways from his seat, stricken with a seizure. The passengers grew silent. We were concerned, flustered. The driver radioed for help and pulled over. Then a woman sat on the floor beside the young man. Humming quietly, she began stroking his hands. We all got off the bus, but the woman and boy stayed together. Her hum became a quiet song as they waited for his spasms to end.
— Tracy Huddleson, Garden Valley, Calif.
I have a balance problem after an operation on a brain aneurysm affected my ability to do certain things like bending or looking sideways. One day while walking with a stick through the city, I realized that my shoelace was undone. I just kept walking. Suddenly a young woman stopped. “Hey,” she said, “your shoelace is undone. Here, let me do it up in case you trip.” She tied the shoelace, smiled and walked on.
— Carol Lange, Oxford, England
I was 6 years old and spending the night at my grandparents’. While I was sitting on the porch, a couple walked past. The man reached down and plucked one of my grandmother’s tulips out of the garden and gave it to his lady love. I was outraged and ran into the house, yelling that someone had “stolen” one of my grandmother’s flowers. She calmed me down, held my hand and said, “That’s what flowers are for.”
— Clare Poth, Buffalo
I was walking to the post office. An older, masked couple walked slowly on the other side of the street. During the pandemic, people walk fast, avoid contact and try to get their things done quickly. For a moment, the couple stopped. They kissed through their masks and continued walking. It gave me some hope, that even in these times, love and human connection prevail.
— Susi Reichenbach, Brussels
We were at the beach on Martha’s Vineyard. The sun was bright coral and hanging over the horizon. Just as it was about to set, there was a commotion a few yards in front of us. A young man had just proposed to his partner, and everyone around them just turned to watch them take the first step into their new lives.
— Harriet Bernstein, West Tisbury, Mass.
When I was little, my parents and I flew to Seattle often to visit their friends. Once, while at the airport, I saw what I presumed to be a husband and wife embrace, kiss and tearfully say goodbye. That surprised me. My parents had just divorced and had never been overly affectionate. I think about that couple often.
— Margaret Anne Doran, Charlottesville, Va.
I was standing in a crowded subway train, facing a woman who was sitting. I was going through a terrible week. I was exhausted and overcome with emotion. All of a sudden, I started to cry. It almost didn’t occur to me that anyone could see me. But the seated woman did, and she handed me a tissue without saying anything except for giving me a comforting, knowing look.
— Nicole Shaub, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn
My mother often traveled for work when I was in high school. She could be away for weeks at a time. During one of her trips, I wandered into my parents’ room. My father was smelling one of her scarves. Blushingly, he put it down and said, “I was just missing your mother.”
— Sarah Hughes, Rockville, Md.
While I was driving, something up ahead brought everyone to a standstill. There was restlessness and frustrated honking. But when the cars in front of me moved into the next lane, I saw that a woman in one car was repeatedly stopping, getting out, grabbing brown-bag lunches and distributing them to the many homeless people on the side of the road. She offered them conversation, care and warmth, and seemed not to care about the frazzled drivers behind her.
— Sam Alviani, Denver
Several years ago, I was walking in the East Village when a biker got clipped by a car. The biker was hurt and bleeding, and the car drove away. Within seconds, dozens of New Yorkers sprang into action. Several people ran down the street to note the car’s license plate number. A ring of people surrounded the biker to administer first aid, ripping off sweatshirts to stanch the bleeding. In under two minutes, ambulances and police cars had arrived on the scene. There was not a second of chaos. It was a beautiful ballet of competence and confidence. New Yorkers care for each other.
— Elizabeth Brus, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn
We’re back in school, and we’re at choir rehearsal. Scrupulously adhering to guidelines, my students are singing outdoors, in masks, 10 feet apart. It’s January in New England, 34 degrees and overcast with an icy breeze.
Two high school senior boys, young men now, members of the choir I direct, inseparable since forever and never silent in rehearsal until Zoom muted them, chatted and laughed and danced together unselfconsciously between singing verses of “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”
They look like there’s nowhere in the world they would rather be.
— Scott Halligan, Longmeadow, Mass.
As I was headed to the drugstore, a high school-aged boy walked out carrying a bouquet of yellow daffodils. Someone yelled from across the street: “Are you looking to get lucky?” He answered: “No, I think I’m in love!” This happened probably 40 years ago, and I still think about it.
— Sallie Wolf, Oak Park, Ill.
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
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If you’re looking for
L o V e
as a certain Shape, Texture, or Color
you risk missing it–
D O N ‘ T. . .
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Every time Love comes showing up
all full bloom and neatly arranged
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It has a not so pretty side
that shows off all of the flaws
and the scars
that almost makes you forget
the other side. . .
a not-so-subtle-reminder
that sometimes
LOVE AT ITS BEST
ain’t all that pretty or proper
but nonetheless powerful. . .
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Brene Brown
will remind you
it’s not for the weak of heart
but for the Hearts of the Weak. . .
and what makes it as palpable as a heart beat
and more necessary than your next breath
is that it always answers
The Question:
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Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .
that’s not only when it gets good
it’s what makes
VALENTINE’S DAY
EVERY DAY
( PROVE IT )
DIRTY HEARTED LOVE
Will
YOU BE ONE
of them?
It was estimated that 1 out of 2 people plan to celebrate
Valentine’s Day
S U N D A Y
but Monday
and some
F I V E D A Y S
l a t e r
is when you can cash in
on all of the
s p e c i a l s. . .
FUNDIVO. com
reports that 54.8%
will in fact celebrate Valentine’s Day. . .
$19.7 Ba-ba-ba-B I L L I O N will be spent. . .
$4.5 Billion will be spent
just in jewelry. . .
$147.00 is the average amount each person spends. . .
25-34 year old’s spend the most on this day for Lovers. . .
Now about those days,
two days,
five days
a week
possibly two week late
s p e c i a l s. . .
Here’s something kind of
j u i c y
and
s p e c i a l:
I like it dirty !
R E A L
real. . .
very, very r e a l
d i r t y
Mud-Puddle LOVE
T h e r e !
It’s out there. . .
I like a love that shows up filthy
and intends on getting muddier/dirtier
by the very moment. . .
L O V E
E t c h e s d i s t i n c t i v e l i n e s
in the D I R T t h a t
D R A W S
Everyone I n. . .
c l o s e r
U N D E R S T A N D,
I love the Hallmark,
Hollywood kind of love. . .
AS PREVIOUSLY DOCUMENTED
Our kids will bet every time who will cry first,
mom or dad,
when you put the ‘chick-flick’ on. . .
and to be honest,
they’ve not lost a whole lot of money
betting on M E. . .
B A M. . .
I’ll let the tears go,
save your tissues,
let those tears race down my face
to see which hits the beard first.
I don’t care!
BUT. . .
that’s not the kind of Dirty,
muddy,
pot-holed kind of love
I’m talking about. . .
I’m talking about the kind of love
that shows up filthy dirty,
holes in the pants,
gloves crusted in dried dirt,
hat matted with sweat and mud,
shoes with more
‘H O L E T H A N S O L E’
and zipperless coats that don’t hold the heat
and invite a cold that makes the heart shiver
more than a regular beat. . .
THAT KIND OF LOVE
wont’ get you a movie part
or probably even noticed
but it WILL get you remembered. . .
Want to have the most perfect of Valentine’s Days?
S K I P I T !
Seriously,
S K I P I T!
Be more concerned about February 19
or the 28th or even April 14. . .
that’s the Love that’ll matter the most. . .
Love’s a dirty,
muddy-filled pothole
that will jar you
when you least expect it
on a day that has no calendar page assigned to it. . .
Psssssssssssssst:
T H A T ‘ S T H E G O O D N E W S !
s o m e t i m e s. . .
LOVE SHOWS UP
Not quite in the
SHAPE
TEXTURE
COLOR
We expect. . .
And Glorious as it is,
WE MISS IT—
D O N ‘ T
Love doesn’t have to be flowers,
a box of chocolates,
a long look that’ll knock you to your knees,
a kiss that will outlast the ravages of dementia. . .
Love doesn’t have to be perfect
t o b e l o v e !
Love just moves into the most unlikely neighborhoods
when everyone else boards up and moves away. . .
Don’t let the imperfect,
messy,
dirty-hearted
love stop you
from not only doing what your heart does best,
but what another’s needs the most!
May your Love be a
V E R B. . .
and never a Noun!
Now go jump in a mud puddle!
. . .h a p p y v a l e n t i n e ‘ s
D A Y S !
LET I T
The best way to make
Valentine’s Day
a
l i f e s t y l e
of being an ongoing
Caring Catalyst
is summed up with
JUST 4 WORDS
l e t
y o u r
l o v e
f l o w
The Valentine’s Day THAT Wasn’t
He was a kid in 7th grade who really didn’t like himself.
He couldn’t look in the mirror and NOT see something wrong with
His hair–too unCOMBly and wild
His Ears–too big
His Eyes–too green
His Nose–UnSHAPELY
His skin–Blemished
His body–Gawky
He couldn’t look in the mirror and NOT see something wrong with himself.
He even hated his name even though it came from his grandfather, but the way his teachers and sometimes, parents, used it, uhhhhh, NO!
He hated himself and worse. . .
Broken Hearts Still Beat
Any time we need some ancient Wisdom, we reach back for some ancient stories–or so it seems.
This is an old Hasidic tale about what took place very shortly after the magnificent Exodus. The Hebrew folks had just dramatically and safely crossed over through the Red Sea, and as easily imagined, they were celebrating their new found freedom and the complete obliteration of the Egyptian army.
It was then that they felt this great
A B S E N C E
This great LACK had an eerie Silence to it.
It was then the Hebrew people felt, recognized God was not present.
The murmur grew into a loud wondering:
“WHERE IS GOD?”
The Answer came back even more powerfully:
GOD IS NOT HERE BECAUSE HE IS OFF BY HIMSELF, WEEPING. . .
YOU SEE, MANY THOUSANDS OF HIS CHILDREN DROWNED TODAY. . . .
W E
actually think we KNOW what LOVE is. . .
It’s all Valentine’s Day and Wedding Bells, and Goo-Goo eyes and hand-holding and wet kisses. . .
it’s much dirtier, much more filthy, broken, shattered and discolored than any Fifty Shades of White, Black or Gray.
Martin Luther King, Jr. once said,
“I MOURN THE LOSS/DEATHS OF 1000’S AND REJOICE NOT OVER THE DEATH OF ONE!”
More and more there’s a vast growing amount of people who’ve had it with people in cloistered halls professing love and showing the exact opposite.
The NONES, those who have expressed
N O N E
when asked, “What religious affiliation are you?”
may be more in tune of the Broken hearts which still beat than all of the other “LOVERS”
The SHORT
may be the LONGEST part of it:
I, like so many others, on scheduled days of Love and all of the others leading up to and away from IT
am expressing disapproval over any groups who fail to L O V E people whom the great
THOU WHO IS FOREVER
never stops loving. . . .
You?
Happy
Saint
Valentine’s
FORKED
COINCIDENCE?
HAPPENSTANCE?
ACCIDENT?
FATE?
What do you call it when
IT
All seems to fit together in a way that you could never, even on your best day, construe or imagine?
T R U E
is usually NOT the Word that comes to mind?
Why?
Too much of a HALLMARK or LIFETIME moment?
We are coming quickly to V-DAY at the end of the week.
When we speak of things of L O V E