Miss Julia's Gift: A Penguin Special from Viking Read Online Free Page B

like in little kids’ school where we put our valentines in a box and the teacher hands ’em out after we have a party.” He picked up the little globe with the flag-waving mouse that I was using as a paperweight and turned it over to watch the snow fall. “And I’m thinking that maybe we’re too old for valentines and that’s why none of the teachers have started decorating boxes. Maybe they think we’ve outgrown little kid stuff.”
    “Well, I don’t know about that. But if some of the students are talking about it, they must not think they’re too old.”
    “It’s mostly the girls. So I thought I’d ask you what I ought to do. I don’t want to maybe get one from somebody and not give them one.”
    “That is a problem,” I said, putting down my pen. “Why don’t you ask the other boys what they’re going to do? They’re probably in the same quandary you are.”
    “Yes’m, I guess I could. I just don’t want them to think I’m dopey or something.”
    I could tell that I wasn’t helping him, so I wracked my brain for a solution. “Let me ask you this: Is there someone special you’d
like
to give one to—even if you don’t get one from that person?”
    He ducked his head and smiled. “Maybe. But I don’t want anybody to know.”
    “Then here’s what you do. It’s the way we did it when I was a girl. Go ahead and buy your valentines, then address them to everybody you even think will give you one. That way you’ll be prepared if the teachers decide to distribute them in school. But let’s say they don’t. And let’s say that your friends give some out—maybe before school or at lunch—then you’ll have yours ready to go when you get home.”
    “But it’ll be too late then. School will be out.”
    “No, the way we did it was to go around right after dark—not too late, mind you—and put a valentine on the porch or stuck in a screen door. Then you ring the doorbell and run.”
    “You
run
?” He laughed at the thought.
    “Oh, yes, you may have to hide in the bushes if they come to the door too fast, because you don’t want them to know who left the card. Of course, you can sign your name if you want to, but it’s more fun if you use something like Your Secret Admirer or Be My Valentine or whatever.”
    “I like that idea! And it’s even better because by that night everybody’ll think Valentine’s Day is over and it won’t be. And I can give a valentine to everybody who gave me one at school and even to somebody who maybe didn’t, and they’ll have to guess who did it.”
    “Yes, and I’ll tell you something else. Any little girl who gets a valentine from a secret admirer will just be thrilled—she will always wonder who it was and she’ll never forget it. That would be a very nice thing to do, because there are always a few girls who won’t get any.”
    “You mean,” he asked, thinking through what I’d said, “give one to the girls nobody likes?”
    “Who would know?”
    He laughed. “Nobody!”
    “And think how special those little girls would feel. And I think you’d feel pretty special too.”
    “Me, too,” he said, as he turned to leave. “Thanks, Miss Julia.”
    I smiled, pleased at how little it had taken to lift his spirits. Then picking up my pen and turning back to the bank statement, I sighed. It seemed that everybody was having trouble with giving and receiving.
    * * *
    Emma Sue Ledbetter, our pastor’s wife, called to ask me to pick her up on my way to our monthly circle meeting, during which there would be a ten-minute Bible study and two hours of arguing about project reports, eating finger sandwiches and deciding where we would meet the following month.
    “It won’t be out of your way, Julia,” Emma Sue had said, “and I’ll be ready and waiting when you get here. Actually, since I’m teaching the lesson, they can’t start until I get there, so it doesn’t matter if we run late.”
    “We won’t be late. I’ll be by about nine