Saturday, February 14, 2026
Memorial of Saints Cyril, Monk and Methodius, Bishop
Feast of Saint Valentine (Valentine’s Day)
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Love never ends
Oh, no! In second grade my nemesis Scott was talking in class while Mrs. Armstrong was in the hall. When she came back she glared at us and asked, “Who was talking?” Scott said, “It was David Sandel, Mrs. Armstrong.” Do you remember Eddie Haskell on the TV show Leave It to Beaver? Scott did him one better.
Our teacher stopped glaring at the class. She walked back to where I was sitting. I don’t remember protesting, even though Scott was lying. She smacked me on the back of my head. I gasped.
I guess you don’t forget the worst memory of your grade school years. Later, sitting at the head of our lunch table, Mrs. Armstrong’s blood suddenly burst out of her mouth and nose. I guess it was an aneurysm. She died sometime later.
Serves her right, I thought. Even now, I’m barely shocked at my lack of empathy. As I write this, I realize God has it in mind for me to forgive Mrs. Armstrong, and maybe even Scott – get this lifelong bitterness settled. Thank you, Jesus.
I have a happy memory too from second grade. We made cards for everybody in our class. Then we put little candy hearts in the envelopes, especially for our special someones.
My special someone was Debbie, the daughter of our school principal Mr. Moss. Â Debbie had long blonde hair and wore glasses. I loved her smile.
In third grade Debbie and I accepted a double dog dare, and I kissed Debbie behind the classroom flag. Miss McGee didn’t say a word. Maybe she didn’t see us? We were little and she was big, but unlike Mrs. Armstrong, she did nothing to make us afraid of her.
So we won the bet and I guess nothing was the same after that. My first kiss. Debbie’s too, I imagine. We shared some deep sentiments on our Valentine hearts that year. Be mine. Be my valentine.
We did strange things sometimes in grade school. (I have pictures!) Once my best friend Terry Lessen and I exchanged girlfriends. Or was it Debbie and Jane who had that idea? We switched back after a few weeks.
In seventh grade I gave Debbie a friendship ring which I won selling magazines door to door in the small subdivision behind our school. Debbie lived in that subdivision, right on the edge of our playground. When I won the friendship ring for Debbie, Terry won one for Jane too.
We thought we should show off a little before giving them their rings. We decided on a long jump contest, in the sand pit behind Debbie’s house on the edge of our playground. Terry was an athlete; I was not. His jump was elegant, but my arms flailed a little in the air.
Afterward I couldn’t find Debbie’s ring. Then I remembered I’d put it in my open shirt pocket. It must have fallen into the sand. I was heartbroken. Debbie was disappointed, but she consoled me.
Later that spring Debbie’s brother was practicing his own long jump for the next day’s track meet. He landed, looked down and saw a ring in the sand. In my cloudy memory I think he looked at it, laughed at it for some reason, and then threw it in a burn barrel on the edge of his family’s backyard.
I didn’t say a word. But after everyone left the playground, I pulled the burn barrel down and fished out the ring, cleaned off the sand, polished it, and gave it to Debbie.
One of the best days of my life.
We knew nothing of St. Valentine’s miracles, heroism and martyrdom eighteen hundred years earlier. We did know that, even as young as we were, love mattered.
We have sinned, we and our fathers;
we have committed crimes; we have done wrong.
We have not considered your wonders.
Remember us, O Lord, as you favor your people.
(1 Kings 12, Psalm 106, Matthew 4, Mark 8)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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