The Valentine Maker
by Beth Smith
Once upon a time, Agnes Millicent MacHugh arrived in the little village of Monkton, with an entourage of assorted servants and the Wallace family – Andrew, Mary, six children, and a beautiful young woman named Bonnie.
“She is rich; she just bought the most expensive property on the Manor; and we are to call her Lady MacHugh,” announced local realtor Walter Pierce to anyone who would listen, and just about everyone listened.
“And, if you are still interested,” and just about everyone was, “she was born in Baltimore, married a wealthy English Lord with a great castle in Scotland, and she returned to Maryland when he died,” he added.
Lady MacHugh, with her butler, her housekeeper, her cook, her gardener, and her many maids, quickly settled in at Glen Glory, the new name for her estate. A few days after her move-in, she appeared at the door of Walter Pierce’s real estate office.
“Mr. Pierce,” said Lady MacHugh, “I want to buy that dilapidated brick building on Monkton Road, near the stream.”
“Do you mean Manor Grist Mill? asked Mr. Pierce. “I don’t believe it is for sale.”
“Mr. Pierce, that property has been sold dozens of times since it was built over a hundred and fifty years ago. Talk to the present owner, ask his price, and get back to me,” said Lady MacHugh. “I have a gentleman to manage the Mill. But Mr. Jensen can stay as his assistant if he ceases to spend his working hours at the Manor Tavern.”
Manor Grist Mill sat near a sharp curve on Monkton Road, just south of the Monkton Methodist Church. The Manor Tavern was just up the road. The Mill was in crumbling disarray due to the poor business practices of Martin Jensen, the mill operator, who preferred afternoons at the Manor Tavern not Manor Mill. Mill business was almost non-existent.
Much to Mr. Pierce’s surprise, the present Mill owner was delighted to sell, and Lady MacHugh became the owner of not only Glen Glory, but Manor Grist Mill.
The Wallace family settled in quickly. Andrew Wallace revived the Mill’s business; Mr. Jensen said goodbye to the afternoon barkeep at the Manor Tavern; Mary Wallace dusted, polished, and redid the Mill house for her family; the children enrolled at Sparks School; and farmers started coming and going from the Mill as they did in years past.
Lady MacHugh was pleased except for Bonnie.
An exceedingly generous and truly kind woman, Lady MacHugh liked everything to run smoothly for her ‘kith or kin,’ she liked to say. If they were not happy, she would find a way to fix the problem.
She worried about Bonnie. Bonnie did not talk; she did not make a sound. Instead, she carried a tablet with her and wrote her messages when she felt the need to ask a question or make a comment.
So, Lady MacHugh decided to invite Mary Wallace for tea at Glen Glory.
“Mary,” she asked as they settled down in front of the library fireplace on a cold January day, “what is wrong with Bonnie? She does not appear to be deaf, and I hate to use this word, she is, what I think society calls ‘dumb.’ She cannot speak.”
“Lady MacHugh” said Mary, “I really know little about Bonnie. My husband and I found her curled up one morning on our doorstep – it was February 14, I remember because it was Valentine’s Day. She was very young, about eight.”
“She had a tablet – the same one she uses today - around her neck. A note was on the tablet. It said, My name is Bonnie. I was born on Valentine’s Day, I am an orphan, I cannot speak. My mother made this Valentine. And she was holding a very beautiful Valentine card.”
“We picked her up and carried her into our house. She has lived with our family for nearly ten years. She has never spoken, but she is a wonderful helper, and she can read and write. She is very dear, and smart and quite pretty with her dark hair and blue eyes.”
“Her favorite thing is to sit for hours and make Valentine cards – very beautiful Valentine cards like they sell in London. Her talent must come from her dear, dead mother, whom we never found, although we looked for her,” Mary added.
Lady MacHugh listened with great interest.
“I wish I had some faerie dust from Scotland to sprinkle on her so maybe she would speak,” said Mary. “We sent her to school, but the children laughed at her and called her ‘dumb.’ She was sad. I kept her home with me, and she was a wonderful helper. She taught herself to read and write.”
“Yes, she is smart, sweet, and beautiful,” said Lady MacHugh. “I do not know about faerie dust, but I want to help her. I want her to come and live with me at Glen Glory.”
And so, Bonnie moved to Glen Glory. As she was leaving, she hugged Mary Wallace and handed her a beautiful Valentine card. On her tablet she wrote, Please give this Valentine to the children on February 14th.
Bonnie settled in quickly at Glen Glory. Lady MacHugh gave her a third-floor, sun-filled, garret room furnished with a great fluffy bed, a handsome chifforobe, and a giant trunk filled with all types of materials to make Valentines – pieces of velvet and lace, ribbons, old pictures, papers, pens, pencils, paint, and anything red. Bonnie would draw and paint cupids and hearts and copy snippets of love poems she found in poetry books from the library at Glen Glory.
Mixing these items together, she created beautiful Valentine cards.
Lady MacHugh remembered fondly the Valentines she received from her husband. Bonnie’s valentines were as beautiful, more beautiful.
Everyone at Glen Glory loved Bonnie’s Valentine cards, and they loved Bonnie.
Early one Saturday morning, Lady MacHugh decided to visit Bonnie to watch her making Valentines. When she opened the door to Bonnie’s room, she saw Bonnie sitting by a window, surrounded by her Valentine materials, and she was silently crying.
“Bonnie, my dear,” said Lady MacHugh, “whatever is the matter?”
I cannot talk, and I do not know why, Bonnie wrote on her tablet. I try to talk, but no sound will come. I am called dumb, but I am not dumb. I just cannot speak. Everyone is kind, but I know they are being kind to the dumb girl, she finished writing and put down her pencil.
“Oh, Bonnie, I am so sorry. I thought you were happy here at Glen Glory, making your beautiful Valentines,” said Lady MacHugh, reaching to give Bonnie a hug.
I love making my Valentines, and I am happy, but I cannot talk,” Bonnie wrote, wiping away tears.
“Bonnie, I have a dear doctor friend who is helping to open a great hospital in Baltimore. Would you like me to invite him to come and examine you to see why you cannot talk?” Bonnie shook her head yes and hugged Lady MacHugh.
“In the meantime, make your beautiful Valentines and try to be happy,” Lady MacHugh said as she left the garret.
A few days later when Bonnie was out picking wildflowers to dry and use on her Valentine cards, a little elf-like man with red hair knocked on the huge oak door of Glen Glory. He was carrying a wicker basket. Jervis, the butler, opened the door and looked skeptically at the little person who greeted him.
“My name is Angus. I have a wee gift from Scotland for Bonnie,” said the little man.
Jervis looked at him and was about to wave him away when Lady MacHugh arrived at the door.
“What is it Jervis?”
“This little man says he has a ‘wee’ gift for Bonnie.”
Just at that moment, Bonnie walked into the entry hall.
“I have a wee gift for you, Bonnie,” said Angus, handing the wicker basket to her.
Bonnie took the basket, opened the lid, and stared into two brilliant green eyes. Suddenly a cat jumped from the basket and landed on the floor.
Jervis was about to scoot the cat away, when Bonnie grabbed her up and touched five, large, reddish fur spots that marked the cat’s coat. The spots were shaped like hearts. Bonnie smiled.
“Aye,” said Angus. “This is a Valentine cat, a beautiful Valentine cat, and she has special powers to help you make Valentine cards,” and he winked at Lady MacHugh.
Bonnie looked at Lady MacHugh, and before Lady MacHugh could say no, Bonnie headed up the winding stairway with the cat. Lady MacHugh and Jervis turned to watch her go, and when they turned around, the little man with the red hair was gone.
All was quiet for a second.
“Well, Jervis, tell the housekeeper, tell the cook, tell all the staff, we now have a cat in the house,” said Lady MacHugh laughing quietly. She dearly hoped that the cat with the heart spots, regardless of who sent her, would help Bonnie not to be so sad about not having a voice.
Bonnie immediately loved the cat. She named her Valentine. As she petted Valentine, she touched the heart-shaped spots on Valentine’s back and side, even the spot on her fluffy tail. She felt a shiver of joy, and she laughed aloud. That night Bonnie wrote on her tablet, I love my Valentine cat, and today I made a laughing noise. But I cannot talk. I am dumb. A teardrop fell on her tablet.
Everyone at Glen Glory noticed the change in Bonnie as she loved and petted Valentine. She was still quiet, but occasionally they heard her laugh. “If only Bonnie could talk,” they said to each other.
Valentine the Cat accompanied Bonnie everywhere, even when she did her household chores. If she was making up beds, Valentine would sit on the floor and watch. If she was dusting in the Great Hall, Valentine would stretch out on the mahogany sideboard and watch. If she walked to the garden to cut roses, Valentine followed along.
Lady MacHugh smiled when she saw Valentine prancing about the house, and she also noticed the change in Bonnie. She heard her laugh. But she also knew that Bonnie had still not talked. A note from her doctor friend at Hopkins Hospital said that a young doctor who specialized in helping people who could not hear or speak would soon arrive to examine Bonnie.
A day later, Dr. Michael Smith arrived at Glen Glory. He was a handsome young doctor, very tall, very polite. Lady MacHugh liked him at once. She had seen his credentials from the hospital. He was exceptionally brilliant and experienced with patients who could not talk.
Bonnie was shy with Dr. Smith at first, but soon she seemed to be comfortable. She tried to speak, but she could not.
After the examination, Dr. Smith looked perplexed.
“Honestly,” said the doctor when he and Lady MacHugh were alone in Glen Glory’s study, “I really cannot find a physical reason for Bonnie’s lack of voice. I want to do some research at the hospital and come again to see her.”
“Yes, please do come again and plan to stay for dinner,” said Lady MacHugh. So began many dinners with Dr. Smith, Bonnie, and Lady MacHugh, with Valentine sitting nearby on the large Oriental rug and purring very loudly.
One afternoon in the following fall, Lady McHugh invited Bonnie to share a few moments with her in the garden. Valentine, of course, came along and curled up in one of the wicker garden chairs.
“Bonnie,” said Lady MacHugh, “I have a project for you. I have been dreaming about this night after night. I want you to make lots and lots of Valentine cards, and we will give them out at Manor Mill. Then we will have a great Valentine party at Glen Glory on February 14. The ladies of Monkton will be enchanted. Valentines are very stylish in London and New York.”
Bonnie stood up and clapped her hands. Valentine smiled her cat-smile, rubbed against Bonnie, and meowed so loud that all the birds sitting in nearby trees vanished quickly.
Lady MacHugh could see that Bonnie was intrigued. Maybe, thought Lady MacHugh, she would speak, say something about the party. Bonnie did not.
And so, as fall faded into the holiday season, Bonnie spent all her free time making Valentine cards, that is when she was not dining with Doctor Smith, or walking with Dr. Smith on the Gunpowder Trail, or sitting with Dr. Smith, listening with rapt attention to his plans for the future.
Bonnie felt happier than she had for a long time, but making Valentine cards was not easy. Some evenings, Bonnie worked so hard she felt exhausted. Then she would pet Valentine’s fur hearts and drop off to sleep before finishing her work. But strangely, when she awoke, the Valentine card she was crafting was done, along with a dozen more. The cards seemed to have doubled in number. Bonnie was confused. Valentine the Cat just purred very loudly.
A few days after Christmas, Lady MacHugh asked Realtor Pierce to tell everyone in town about the Valentine cards and the Valentine Party. The news spread quickly. Soon, all the men, women, and children in Monkton and on the Manor knew about Bonnie’s Valentine cards and the great party to be held at Glen Glory on Valentine’s Day.
They rushed to Manor Mill to look through baskets of Bonnie’s Valentine cards and to select their favorite card or two or three or more.
Of course, Dr. Smith was invited to the party. Bonnie had shown him the Valentine wall in the Great Hall of Glen Glory that Jervis and the maids had assembled to display Bonnie’s Valentine cards. Dr. Smith was impressed.
I have a special Valentine for you, Bonnie wrote on her tablet.
She handed him a card with a drawing of Valentine the Cat, complete with all five of his heart-shaped fur spots. Little cupids danced around the corners of the card, which was bordered in white lace.
On the card she wrote, Happy Valentine’s Day and thank you for trying to help me talk. I so wish I could say Happy Valentine’s Day.
Dr. Smith gently took her hand and kissed it. Bonnie’s heart leaped. Valentine purred loudly as she always did when something important was happening or about to happen. Lady MacHugh walked into the hall just as Dr. Smith kissed Bonnie’s hand. She smiled.
On the morning of the Valentine party, Bonnie was excited. On her tablet she wrote, I was born on Valentine’s Day. This is like my birthday party. She danced around the house showing her tablet to all the maids, Mrs. Bloom the cook, Mrs. Foster, the housekeeper, and Jervis the butler. They were all happy for Bonnie.
At four in the afternoon, guests, all carrying Valentines, started to arrive at Glen Glory. Families came with children, young girls came in their best party frocks, village lads and Manor gentry all came with Valentine cards sticking from the pockets of their jackets.
The Valentine Party was a holiday in Monkton. Manor Mill, and all the town’s shops, the post office, and the sheriff’s office closed early. Glen Glory was decorated with hundreds of red hearts and paper cupids. In the Great Hall, everyone ‘oohed and aahed’ when they glimpsed Bonnie’s Valentine card display.
To make the party truly festive, Lady MacHugh hired the Monkton band to play dance music. Mrs. Bloom made dozens of heart-shaped cookies and cherry tarts with meringue. The large mahogany table in the dining room was loaded down with silver trays filled with sweets. A silver punch bowl almost spilled over with a concoction of red punch for the children and ladies. Whiskey and cigars were on the sidebar for the gentlemen.
Angus sneaked into the party through the kitchen door and quietly entered the Great Hall. He saw Valentine perched serenely atop the loveseat’s heart-shaped pillow.
Valentine spied Angus and immediately jumped off the pillow and sauntered over to him. She glanced at Bonnie who was surrounded by a group of young men all eager to give her a Valentine. Dr. Smith was trying desperately to hold his place in the circle. Valentine followed Angus through the French doors to the porch.
“Aye, cat,” said Angus, “I am giving you some special magic today.” Angus pulled a silver box out of his pocket and opened it. Out darted tiny Firefly Faerie who flitted around for a second and then landed right between Valentine’s ears. “Only you will be able to see this little faerie. She will live between your ears.”
Valentine squinted her green eyes and frowned. She was not sure she would like invisible Firefly Faerie sitting on her head day and night.
“Every morning, Firefly Faerie will sprinkle Bonnie with this special faerie dust,” said Angus. “Bonnie won’t see or feel it.”
Angus noticed the confused look on Valentine’s furry face.
“The story is long and sad. You already know that Bonnie is not a faerie. She has no magic of her own. She is a human,” said Angus. “My Faerie Queen found Bonnie, when she was a little girl, in the arms of her mother, who was very sick and dying. The woman whispered to the Queen that her daughter was sobbing and crying ‘mam, mam, don’t go’ because she knew her mother was going away to heaven. Suddenly, a wicked witch flew down from the sky, screaming at Bonnie to be quiet, but Bonnie kept crying and sobbing and desperately calling ‘mam, mam.’ The wicked witch, sneered at Bonnie, and then cast an evil spell on her so that she could never make any sound for the rest of her life. She would never talk again.”
Valentine hissed thinking of the mean witch.
“The dying woman said that she had nothing to leave her little girl, but a beautiful Valentine card she had made,” Angus continued. “She handed the Faerie Queen the card just as two angels appeared and gently carried Bonnie’s mother up to heaven. You know, angels and faeries often help each other.”
“The Faerie Queen was very sad for the dying woman and Bonnie, and very, very angry at the witch,” continued Angus. “She did not allow evil spells in Faerieland. She called up the Royal Faerie Guard and ordered them to track down the wicked witch. They caught up with her at the edge of a giant granite cliff. But before they could grab her, the wicked witch, fearing the wrath of the Faerie Queen, jumped. The guards could hear her crackling voice screaming that the Faerie Queen would never break the spell.”
“So, the Faerie Queen took Bonnie to live at her castle in Faerieland where she tried many potions and pixie dust to break the spell, but nothing changed. Bonnie never spoke. Finally the Queen saw that Bonnie was growing into a sweet little girl and, since she was a human, she knew that Bonnie should live with a human family.”
“Then, our great Faerie Queen erased Faerieland from Bonnie’s memory, found the Wallace family, and deposited Bonnie on their doorstep. But first, she wrote Bonnie’s story on a tablet and put it around Bonnie’s neck. Then she put her own spell on Bonnie – the talent to make beautiful Valentines just like her mother.”
“But she has never forgotten Bonnie, and for years, she has been looking for a way to break the spell of the wicked witch,” added Angus. “She thinks this faerie dust might be the right magic,” Angus said as he ended his story.
Valentine squinted her vivid green eyes again and meowed.
“She sent you with magic powers to Bonnie to help her make her Valentines and to help make her happy,” said Angus, anticipating what Valentine was thinking. “She also sent her power across the ocean to Lady MacHugh and gave her dreams of Valentines and a great Valentine party.”
Suddenly, Angus and Valentine heard lots of noise and shouts from the Great Hall. The guests were exchanging Valentines with each other. People were laughing and dancing, and saying ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ but not Bonnie. She was dancing with Dr. Smith, and she was very happy, but she was not talking.
“I swear you won’t notice Firefly Faerie sitting between your ears, and remember, you have your duty to our Faerie Queen,” said Angus, as he plopped the invisible Firefly Faerie on Valentine’s head and disappeared off the porch and into the night.
The next morning, Monkton had returned to its normal routine. The Manor Grist Mill was open, the post office was open, the sheriff was rounding up some village lads who had partied a little too much at Glen Glory. But wherever they gathered – people were talking about the wonderful Valentine party and Bonnie’s beautiful Valentines.
Dr. Smith arrived early at Glen Glory. He was taking Bonnie on a two-horse sleighride through the winter lanes of Monkton. She was ready to go with Valentine the Cat wrapped securely in a white blanket decorated with red hearts, a gift from Lady MacHugh. Little did Bonnie know that tiny Firefly Faerie was sitting between Valentine’s ears.
The sleighride was glorious. The horses were at their frisky best as they trotted through the snow, which covered everything, including the trees. Icicles, hanging off the roofs of barns and buildings, sparkled in the sunlight. The countryside was a winter faerie land. Dr. Smith was invigorated; Bonnie was giddy with joy; Valentine the Cat was hiding under the white blanket.
Right before the Gunpowder River Bridge, Dr. Smith slowed the horses and then pulled over. He took Bonnie by the hand, and they walked to the bridge. Valentine poked his head out from under the blanket, watched them walk away, and followed. Firefly Faerie held on tight to her place between Valentine’s ears.
The Gunpowder was frozen in most places. The trees that bordered the river bowed down from the weight of snow. The sun peeked here and there between the trees and hit the ice like a spark. Dr. Smith stopped at the bridge railing and pulled Bonnie close to him.
“Bonnie,” said Dr. Smith, taking Bonnie’s gloved hands in his. “Bonnie, I love you very much. Will you marry me and be my wife for ever and ever?”
Bonnie’s heart was racing. Firefly Faerie jumped off Valentine and flitted about Bonnie, dusting her from head to toe in faerie dust.
Bonnie reached for her tablet. It was under her heavy wool coat. She desperately wanted to write, yes, yes, yes! But as hard as she tried, she could not unbutton her coat. Her gloves were too bulky. She tugged and tugged. Panicked, she started to cry.
Then she looked up into Dr. Smith’s brilliant blue eyes, waiting for her to answer, pleading for her to answer yes. She touched his face. He smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek.
Bonnie took a deep breath, held on tight to Dr. Smith’s hand, and summoned all her strength, every ounce of her being. She reached down into her soul; her heart was beating wildly. She thought it might break.
“Yes!” she cried out, very loud and very clear.
“I love you so much. I will love you all my life. I want to marry you and be your wife for ever and ever,” she rushed on, words tumbling out of her mouth. “I…,” suddenly she stopped.
She looked at Dr. Smith. Bonnie talked. Dr. Smith was speechless.
“Bonnie, oh my God, Bonnie, you talked!” he yelled, picking her up and twirling her around and around. “And you said yes!”
Bonnie was dazed. The spell was broken!
“Say something else,” pleaded Dr. Smith. “Say anything, just talk, yell, scream.”
“I love you, I love Valentine, I love Lady MacHugh, I love everything, I love the world,” Bonnie cried with joy.
Valentine the Cat purred her loudest purr and meowed so loud, the blackbird sitting on the fence railing took to the sky. Firefly Faerie flitted around the excited couple. Faerie dust was everywhere.
Bonnie finally was able to unbutton her coat. She grabbed the tablet and looked at Dr. Smith, who nodded yes. Then she yanked the tablet from around her neck. She gave it a goodbye kiss and threw her tablet, her once lifeline to the speaking world, into the Gunpowder River. It first bounced on the ice and then fell into a watery hole. Bonnie and Dr. Smith both laughed and cried and yelled with joy.
On their way back to Glen Glory, they stopped at Manor Mill. Bonnie ran into Mr. Wallace’s office and cried, “Mr. Wallace I love you and Mary, and every one of your beautiful children.”
Mr. Wallace was stunned.
On Bonnie’s way out the door, she turned to Mr. Jensen and said in a very loud voice, “Mr. Jensen, happy belated Valentine’s Day!”
Mr. Jensen watched her jump into the sleigh with Dr. Smith. Then he poked his head into Mr. Wallace’s office. “Wasn’t that the dumb girl?” he said.
“Not anymore,” said Andrew Wallace, beaming with joy.
When they arrived at Glen Glory, Bonnie jumped from the sleigh, rushed into the mansion, and yelled, “I am home everybody, and I love you all, and I love Dr. Smith, and I am getting married, and I can talk!”
Lady MacHugh ran from the library, Jervis ran from the wine cellar, the housekeeper ran from the pantry, the cook ran from the kitchen, the maids ran from every room.
Dr. Smith and Valentine the Cat just stood back while everyone hugged and cried. The moment was quite extraordinary at Glen Glory. It was glorious. Firefly Faerie smiled from her perch between Valentine’s ears.
That night, after all the excitement, before she climbed into her bed, Bonnie pushed open one of the windows in her garret room and yelled cried into the dark, frosty night, “Happy belated Valentine’s Day. I love everyone, especially Dr. Smith.”
Thanks to Valentine the Cat’s magic power, Bonnie’s message resonated through Monkton and across the Manor.
A few months later, Angus was back with the Faerie Queen in Scotland. He had returned Firefly Fairy. She was not needed any more in Monkton. But the Faerie Queen had decided that Valentine the Cat could stay with Bonnie because she said, “sometimes it isn’t easy being a human,” and she wanted Bonnie to have a furry friend with a little bit of magic.
“So,” said Angus to the Faerie Queen, “your fairy dust finally worked.”
“Um,” said the Faerie Queen, “I am not sure. I’ve been told in the human world, sometimes when you love someone very, very much, you do not need magic and faerie dust. Love can make miracles. Love or faerie dust? Who knows?”
“But, I do know one thing for sure,” she said, “Bonnie will continue to make Valentine cards. Her cards will become famous, and she will be famous. A great card company in a place called Kansas City will buy her cards and then sell them to people all over the world.”
She stopped for a minute and looked at the Valentine card that Angus brought her from Monkton. The card was beautiful. Bonnie had made it.
Then, the Faerie Queen picked up her wand, pointed it up to the brilliant blue sky, and wrote in golden letters,
“Bonnie, Dr. Smith, and Valentine the Cat lived happily ever after.”
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Beth Smith learned about faerie tales in the 1950s and 1960s from Walt Disney, who presented a kinder, gentler world than the faerie tales of the Brothers Grimm or even Hans Christian Anderson. When asked to write faerie tales for Manor Mill, she resisted the violence and scariness of the originals, and wrote her tales in a Disney mode with “happily ever after” always ending her tales. A resident of Hunt Valley, Beth listed “wants to write a novel” on her Towson High School yearbook page.
Over the years, a novel has not appeared, but Beth has written for Baltimore Magazine, Maryland Magazine, Style Magazine, and worked as a freelancer for the Baltimore Sun, where her beat was finding and writing about beautiful houses in Maryland. She served as Director of Communications at St. Paul’s School for Girls for several years and taught journalism. Currently, Beth is getting disciplined and energized to write her novel while volunteering for several projects, tending her house and husband of 59 years, connecting with her son and family in Florida, and telling bedtime stories with her grandchildren.