It was around supper time on Valentine’s Day, when I opened my door to a folded heart stuck in one of my sneakers. I always take them off before coming in, serving as a handy mailbox.
It was from the little girl across the hall.
All of 5 cute as can be, I wrote about her as Emily Earheart.
This heart was perfectly made creased just right, so when it unfurled, well, let’s just say it was heartfelt.
I was sad on February 14th, missing my friend Liz who died three weeks ago. We always, for 30 years, exchanged cards so her absence left a hole I wasn’t quite prepared for.
I cried and cried, my aching heart needing a tender tutorial.
And it came by way of a 5 year-old mystic who knew much more than I.