When I was in elementary school, everybody in a class exchanged Valentine’s Day cards at school. Is it still that way? We each decorated a shoebox with our name on it. We cut a slit in the top for others to drop cards through. The displays were up for several days — and everybody was required to give a card to everybody else.
When I was in the fifth grade, I had a crush on a beautiful blue-eyed blonde girl named Wendy. She was my ideal girl when I was about 11 years old. I was terrified of anybody realizing this, though, because then she might know — and that seemed scary. I guess it was “puppy love” rejection I feared.
Since classes routinely gave cards to everyone, there were large packs of small, cheap cards that stores sold. I bought a pack of those generic cards — but I also bought one very special card, much nicer than the others, just for Wendy.
Surely, I thought, nobody will notice. Nobody will figure it out. My secret would be safe.
But little girls who compared the cards they received in our class did notice. And they talked among themselves. Before I knew it, everybody was whispering that I “liked Wendy.”

Unless your spirit’s been broken, your flaws will always be hidden
Next, this city is going to be selling lemonade and holding bake sales
Our voluntary decisions can lead to a new beginning for America
I don’t know how to amuse you into taking your future seriously
For me, money always comes best when I’m pursuing higher purpose
Who were you before someone told you who you were supposed to be?
Romantic love is part obsession, part reality — and part madness
As humans live in slums, why do I complain about my privileged life?