When I was eight or nine, on Valentine’s Day Mom and Dad gave me this great big beautiful decorated chocolate heart, with my name on it. It fit in a red box with white poke-a-dots. It was the first chocolate heart I had ever seen. It was so pretty. Around the edge of the dark shinny chocolate was a light pink ruffle. On the top were two red roses; underneath right across the heart was my name in white frosting.
Oh, I can never eat this. I will save this forever!
I hated to eat it because it was so pretty.
It smelled so good. Well I just had to tasted a little of it, so very carefully I nibbled at the back. It tasted like waxy chocolate, sugar and cardboard. But I thought it was heaven.
I worked my way around the back of the heart until there was only the front left. This I really was going to save. But, I wondered what the frosting was like. Maybe just a little small piece off the bottom. I tasted like pure hard sugar with the after taste of food coloring. Well I had gone this far so guess I’ll have to eat the pink lace around the heart. With that gone I only had the red roses left and my name so why not eat that! With that, I was left with no heart no. I might as well EAT the whole thing.
Well I was left with only the red and white poke-a-dot box. With nothing else to do I decided to make something out of it. There was this cut out in the shape of the heart. It could be a stage if I put some curtains that I could pull to open. Mom gave me some pieces of material, thread and needle. It took a few tries, and a few poked fingers with the needle. What a cute little stage I had now. Now I needed puppets to have a show. I took the valentines I had gotten and cutout people, animals and other things, and put strings on them. I made up all kinds of stories into plays. How much fun this was on a cool winter day. Almost better than the chocolate heart.