By Evelyn Wander

I was the tender age of sixteen and my husband was only seventeen when we were married in 1966 in Welch, West Virginia. There weren’t many jobs available in our small town. We had been married only two months when my husband found out that Trailways Bus Lines was taking applications for various positions.
My husband drove one hundred miles to Roanoke, Virginia, to apply for a job with the bus company. They contacted him the next week to come back to take a test that was one of the requirements for being hired. So once again, he drove the one hundred miles to take the test. A few weeks later, he was notified that he had been accepted to a position as an apprentice mechanic. This offer was a great opportunity for us, but I was heartbroken when I found out that the job was in Roanoke and that we would have to move. We knew no one who lived there. It was very hard for me to move so far from my family and friends at such a young age. We found a small furnished apartment, and I was lucky to find a job as a sales clerk at Woolworth’s during the day, but my husband was scheduled to work from midnight to 8 a.m. So as he came home from work each morning, I was getting ready to leave to go to work.
Naturally, we had very little money, so when Valentine’s Day came around that first year, I knew we couldn’t afford to buy anything for each other. I felt so bad that I wouldn’t be able to buy him a present - not even a card.
After he left to go to work the night before Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t sleep. So I decided to stay up and make a Valentine’s Day card for him. I didn’t have any construction paper, so I had to use regular notebook paper. I worked so hard to compose a poem for him. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t seem to put it on paper. It took me most of the night, and by the time he came home the next morning it was done!
I had made a valentine for my valentine. I felt foolish and childish as I handed him my homemade valentine, hoping that he wouldn’t laugh at it. I held my breath and watched as he opened it and started reading it. On the front of the simple piece of paper, I had written the following:

We may not have a lot of money
To buy a card that’s cute and funny.
But what we have can take the place
Of a paper heart with fancy lace.
We have each other, and that’s the best,
Now open the card and read the rest.

On the inside, I had colored a large red heart and written “I Love You.” I stood waiting and watching, afraid that he would start laughing at any moment. When he had finished reading it, he slowly raised his head and looked at me. Then the corners of his mouth started moving up! But all he did was smile tenderly.
While looking into my eyes, he reached down into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out, he was holding something. He told me that he had made it for me during his lunch hour, but he had been afraid to give it to me. He said that he thought I might think it was silly, and that I might laugh at it.
I took his hand in mine and turned it over. As I looked down, he slowly opened his fingers, and I saw a small heart made out of aluminum. While I had stayed up all night making him a valentine card, he had been cutting out a heart for me from a piece of aluminum. He said the guys he worked with had laughed at him for making the heart, and he’d been worried about giving it to me.
I still have the aluminum heart, and I keep it in my desk. Every once in a while when I open the drawer and see it lying there, all those memories come flooding back to me. Over the years, we’ve been able to buy each other very nice, expensive presents for Valentine’s Day. But none has ever been as dear or meant as much as those handmade gifts made from our hearts the first year that we were married.

James A. Kisner

Hoa hồng đỏ là loại hoa cô thích nhất, tên cô cũng là Rose, nghĩa là hoa hồng. Mỗi năm chồng cô thường gởi một bó hoa hồng đỏ buộc bằng những chiếc nơ xinh xắn vào ngày Valentine. Vào năm anh mất, một bó hoa hồng lại được gởi đến cho cô. Trên tấm thiệp ghi: “Valentine của anh” như mọi năm về trước.

Mỗi năm anh gởi hoa hồng cho cô và những lời chúc luôn là: “Ngày hôm nay anh yêu em nhiều hơn ngày này năm trước. Tình yêu của anh dành cho em luôn tăng lên qua mỗi năm”. Cô biết rằng đó là lần cuối cùng hoa hồng xuất hiện.

Cô nghĩ anh đã đặt trước hoa hồng cho ngày này. Người chồng yêu dấu của cô không biết rằng anh sẽ ra đi. Anh luôn thích làm sớm mọi việc trước khi nó xảy ra. Để rồi nếu anh quá bận rộn thì mọi việc vẫn xảy ra tốt đẹp.

Cô cầm những cành hoa và cắm chúng vào cái lọ đẹp nhất. Cô ngồi đó hàng giờ đồng hồ, trên cái ghế chồng cô yêu thích nhất. Những cành hoa hồng được đặt trước bức hình của anh.

Một năm trôi qua, thật khó khăn khi sống mà không có anh. Sự hiu quạnh và cô đơn đã trở thành số phận của cô.

Vào ngày Valentine, chuông vang lên, và kìa những bông hồng đặt trước cửa. Cô cầm những bông hồng lên và sửng sốt nhìn. Cô chạy đến điện thoại để gọi cho cửa hàng bán hoa. Ông chủ cửa hàng bắt máy và cô muốn ông giải thích tại sao họ làm điều đó với cô, làm cho cô đau khổ. “Tôi biết chồng tôi đã qua đời hơn một năm trước”.

Ông chủ đáp: “Tôi biết cô sẽ gọi và cô muốn biết điều gì. Những bông hoa cô nhận được hôm nay, đã được đặt hàng trước. Chồng cô luôn sắp đặt trước, ông ta đã ra đi nhưng không có điều gì thay đổi. Ông đã đặt hàng với chúng tôi và cô sẽ nhận được hoa hồng mỗi năm. Còn một điều khác tôi nghĩ cô muốn biết đó là ông ta đã viết một tấm thiệp đặc biệt và ông ta đã làm điều đó vào năm trước. Mãi đến bây giờ tôi mới biết ông ta không còn nữa”.

Cô cảm ơn ông chủ và gác máy, nước mắt cô trào ra. Những ngón tay cô rung lên khi cô từ từ cầm lấy tấm thiệp. Bên trong tấm thiệp, cô thấy anh đã viết cô. Rồi cô đọc trong im lặng những điều anh viết:

“Chào người yêu của anh, anh biết rằng đã một năm kể từ ngày anh ra đi, anh hy vọng sẽ không quá khó khăn để em vượt qua. Anh biết em đã trải qua sự cô đơn và đau khổ thật sự. Tình yêu chúng ta dành cho nhau làm cho mọi điều trong cuộc sống tươi đẹp hơn. Anh yêu em nhiều hơn những lời có thể nói, em là một người vợ tuyệt vời. Em là bạn và là người yêu của anh, em đã làm tròn mọi điều anh cần.

Anh biết chỉ mới một năm thôi, nhưng em hãy cố gắng đừng đau lòng. Anh muốn em được hạnh phúc kể cả khi em rơi lệ. Vì sao hoa hồng sẽ được gởi đến cho em ư? Đó là vì khi em nhìn thấy những cành hoa ấy, hãy nghĩ tất cả về hạnh phúc. Khi đó chúng ta ở bên nhau và cả hai chúng cho được chúc phúc. Anh luôn yêu em và anh biết rằng sẽ mãi như thế. Em hãy vui lòng… đi tìm hạnh phúc khi chưa rời khỏi cuộc đời này.

Anh biết rằng điều ấy không dễ dàng nhưng anh hy vọng em sẽ tìm thấy hạnh phúc. Hoa hồng sẽ được gởi mỗi năm và họ chỉ dừng lại khi tiếng gõ cửa không được trả lời. Vào ngày mà người bán hoa đã đến năm lần mà em không có ở nhà, sau lần đến cuối cùng đó ông ta sẽ không nghi ngờ mà cầm những bông hoa hồng đến một nơi mà anh đã chỉ cho ông ta và đặt chúng lên chỗ mà chúng ta sẽ ở bên nhau một lần nữa.”

[English version]

By James A. Kisner

Red roses were her favorites - her name was also Rose -
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, “Be my Valentine,” like all the years before.

Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
“I love you even more this year than last year on this day.
My love for you will always grow with every passing year.”
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.

She thought, “He ordered roses in advance before this day.”
Her loving husband did not know that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early, way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.

She trimmed the stems and placed them in a very special vase,
Then sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband’s favorite chair,
While staring at his picture and the roses sitting there.

A year went by and it was hard to live without her mate,
With loneliness and solitude that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there were roses sitting by her door.

She brought the roses in, and then just looked at them in shock,
Then went to get the telephone, to call the florist shop.
The owner answered and she asked him if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her, causing her such pain?

“I know your husband passed away more than a year ago,”
The owner said. “I knew you’d call, and you would want to know,
The flowers you received today were paid for in advance.
Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance.

“There is a standing order that I have on file down here,
And he has paid well in advance; you’ll get them every year.
There also is another thing that I think you should know:
He wrote a special little card . . . he did this years ago.

“Then, should ever I find out that he’s no longer here,
That’s the card that should be sent to you the following year.”
She thanked him and hung up the phone, her tears now flowing hard,
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached to get the card.

Inside the card she saw that he had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence, this is what he wrote. . . .
“Hello, my love, I know it’s been a year since I’ve been gone,
I hope it hasn’t been too hard for you to overcome.

“I know it must be lonely, and the pain is very real,
For if it were the other way, I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say. You were the perfect wife.

“You were my friend and lover, you fulfilled my every need.
I know it’s only been a year, but please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy, even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be sent to you for years.

“When you get these roses, think of all the happiness
That we had together, and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you, and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on, you have some living still.

“Please try to find happiness, while living out your days.
I know it is not easy, but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year, and they will only stop
When your door’s not answered when the florist stops to knock.

“He will come five times that day, in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit, he will know without a doubt
To take the roses to the place where I’ve instructed him,
And place the roses where we are, together once again.”

[Vietnamese version]