Little Chad was a shy, quiet young boy. One day he came home and told his mother that he’d like to make a valentine for everyone in his class. Her heart sank. She thought, “I wish he wouldn’t do that!” because she had watched the children when they walked home from school. Her Chad was always behind them. They laughed and talked to each other. But Chad was never included. However, she decided she would go along with her son. So she bought paper, glue and crayons. For three weeks, night after night, Chad made thirty-five valentines.
Valentine’s Day came, and Chad was beside himself with excitement. He carefully tied them up, put them in a bag, and ran out of the door. His mother decided to bake him his favorite cookies and serve them nice and warm with a glass of cool milk when he came home from school. She just knew he would be disappointed and that maybe it would ease the pain a little. It hurt her to think that he wouldn’t get many valentines – maybe none at all.
That afternoon she put the cookies and milk on the table. When she heard the children outside, she looked out of the window. Sure enough, there they came, laughing and having the best time. And, as always , there was Chad following them. He walked a little faster than usual. She fully expected him to burst into tears as soon as he got inside. His hands were empty, she noticed, and when the door opened she kept back the tears
“Mommy has some cookies and milk for you,” she said.
But he hardly heard her words. He just marched right on by, his face shining, and all he could say was, “Not a one. Not a one.”
Her heart sank. And then he added, “I didn’t forget a one, not a single one! ”