P.S. I Adore You and My Seven-Year-Old Prom Date

Darnell asked me to prom every day.

I tried to make excuses.

You’ll have more fun with another date. There are tons of girls who would love to go with you. I don’t like you that way. What about our age difference?

See, Darnell was seven and I was nineteen, and neither of us attended high school. We lived at a summer camp for kids with cancer, Darnell as a camper, me as a counselor.

I discovered the camp while flipping through an outdated booklet intended for corporate trainers. Hiring for the camp ended in April. It was May. I called anyway. A newly hired counselor quit the previous week, and the director hired me over the phone. He seemed surprised a girl from Indiana called about a camp in New Jersey. I wasn’t. I knew I was supposed to be there.

God whispered it in my ear. Sure, I would have preferred a message from a burning bush or a shouting angel, but God was teaching me to shut out the world and pay attention to His whispers.

When I arrived at camp, the director assigned me to the youngest girls, the Robins. The Robins were five-year-olds from low income, inner-city homes. The Robins also happened to have cancer, all of them.

I didn’t shine in my new position. Our cabin was filthy. We were late to all activities, and the only time those Robins bathed was when the rain pounded down, and I corralled the girls outside and greased them up with soap.

Regardless of what camp activity I worked, Darnell took each session with me. If I taught four arts and crafts sessions in one day, Darnell made four bird feeders. If I faked my way through leading water aerobics, Darnell, who hated swimming, bounced along with me.

I finally accepted Darnell’s invitation to the prom when his tiny hands brought me a fistful of weeds, and he told me age didn’t matter when you were in love.

We attended prom and took a limo from one side of the camp to the other. We walked through a balloon arch, and we munched on finger food.

Two days later, Darnell left camp. No time for good-byes. His white blood cell count fell too low. After Darnell left, daily activities and the Robins kept me busy, but even now, my head drifts to that little boy with a fistful of weeds.

Valentine’s Day is upon us, and although some declare this holiday a made-up day/marketing ploy created to push people into buying cards (Yeah, I am looking at you, Shane Sullivan). I am in red glittery, sparkle love with the idea of reminding people they are cared about. However, I am not in love with tossing a bunch of money on expensive gifts from boxy stores that will be lost, broken, or forgotten.

Ways I like to celebrate Valentine’s Day: Homemade cards, yes. Cookies, yes. Unexpected phone calls, yes. Cheap grocery store flowers, yes. Businesses which choose to support families battling cancer, yes.

Enter PS I Adore You.

PS I Adore You is a site created by three moms (go, smart moms!), and it’s designed to do three things: feature adorable products, provide shoppers with good deals, and help families who have kids with cancer, kids like Darnell.

Just so we are clear, when I say P.S. I Adore You carries adorable products, I mean this:

I took this sassy, Sage and Harper, messenger bag from P.S. I Adore You to a bunch of Gutsy Girls events this weekend, and I promise you, no less than eight people asked me about it.

So if you you are in need of a Valentine’s Day gift (birthday day gift, shower gift, no reason at all gift) and you like to support businesses which support good causes, take a peek at the loot at P.S. I Adore You. If you don’t see what you like, stop back soon as products are updated often.

Now you go. Tell me what’s happening in your world or how you celebrate Valentine’s Day or tell me you know a kid like Darnell or hey, tell me you like my sassy messenger bag.