(Photo Courtesy of drmartens.com/us/)
Candy Gram and Diane
By Sarah Komisky
I’ll never forget Diane. No, it wasn’t her green Mohawk, spiked dog collar necklace, or even her 5’11 stature. No, it wasn’t her red Dr. Marten’s, her plaid pants, or deep black eyeliner. Although all of that made Diane who she was, I think it’s what she gave me that is one of the things I remember most.
It was Valentines Day and the big thing on my seventh grade campus was candy grams. But I guess it wasn’t the candy gram that was so special but rather who gave them. AND if that person was a guy, then that meant even more. So the anticipation loomed over the school, buzzing with excitement. Every girl felt like Cinderella, waiting for an invitation from her prince. The one question on every gal’s mind was, would it be delivered?
I was in 5th period P.E. when my moment of truth came. An 8th grade student aid held in her hand what was a batch of pink notes. Names were called and then I heard what I was secretly hoping for. “Sarah,” she announced calling my name from afar. Feeling like I just received the golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, I made my way to my gram. Unlike some girls I knew, I wasn’t the one to have a lot of guy friends. A little on the shy side I felt a little at a loss when dealing with the opposite sex. So although taken off guard a bit by the gram, since I didn’t have any picks from my circle of friends, I also was excited. Who was this mystery guy? Did I know him? Who sent me this gram? Someone had taken notice.
Funny, as I look back, how a little pink piece of paper can do wonders for your self esteem. But now, with all those preoccupations fading into my past, the one thing that still remains was the true person who wrote in my little pink hearted gram.
Sticking out of the note was a red hearted lollipop. I unfolded the note. It read:
Thank you for being my friend
You see, I spent that year inviting Diane to youth group. I sat next to her in class. Called her every now and then. I gave Diane a Bible when she didn’t have one and chose to be on her flag football team when she was called “a man.”
Beyond her crazy punk outfits (which I thought were pretty cool) and “who cares” demeanor (which wasn’t at all true when you got to know her), was a girl who was crying out for help. She was the outsider. The one who endured her parents screaming at home. The girl who attempted suicide in Junior High.
Yet, Diane that year experienced a piece of God’s love and I was able to receive a far more meaningful note than from my “mystery guy.”
So take it from me, don’t get stuck in the rut of worrying about your mystery candy gram guy. Instead, take the opportunity to tell someone how much you care for them and appreciate them whether it’s a friend, teacher, mentor, or family member. But maybe this Valentines Day, take time to give it to a Diane. Your words and actions will mean more than you know.