I wasn’t one of those kids who would find a pack of candy hearts in my lunchbox on Valentine’s day. My mom wasn’t like that. Plus, I never had a sweet tooth so all the candy I received along with the “mandatory-exchange-of-valentine-cards-with-all-your-classmates” was more than enough for me.
But, now I am an adult who receives a pack of candy hearts every year, just before Valentine’s day. They are the Sweethearts brand, to be exact. The pink box always comes from “the valentine” in my life — my mom. Her birthday is February 14. And, every year since maybe I was in high school or the beginning of college, she will give my brother and I the small box of candies.
Just like she is always on top of providing chocolate Advent calendars for my cousin, my brother and a few extras for our friends or significant others, she has the candy hearts ready for us.
I eat these candy hearts with the sappy, laugh-worthy messages only because they are from my mom. They are special. (Yes, they taste awful, but they are special).
When I was at the grocery store a few days ago, I saw the aisle of Valentine’s candies. For some reason I was drawn to purchasing some candy hearts. They were on sale and I had a weird craving for them. I didn’t though. I just purchased the fruits and veggies that were on my actual shopping list.
My valentine always comes through.
“Oh, these are for you,” she said as she handed me the small pack of classic candies Sunday night when I was over for dinner. She also had an extra pack for Bryce.
There are many things in life that are unknown or are uncertain. But there are also these small, insignificant gestures or actions that can mean all the world.
They remind me that the little things count — that they can be very significant.
Candy hearts in February are my certainty. I know this to be true.