How the Heart Became a Symbol of Love

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you think of love.  When love enters your mind, thoughts of hearts accompany it… but why?  How did the heart become the symbol of love?  It evolved from an old love story, set in ancient Rome, told by a young lady by the name of Vivian.
I was born in Rome, and lived there nearly all my life.  My days were bland when I stayed home to clean and cook, but market day was always exciting, especially when Victor was there.  
Victor was a tall, blonde athlete who’d competed in last year’s Olympics.  Everyone thought he was impressive, but he was much more than impressive to me!  
One evening, I followed him home, slouching in the shadows.  He didn’t even notice... or so I thought.  Either way, I continued my spying for about a week, until I received a note from Victor reading:

I know you’re following me!  I heart hate you!

Upon reading this, I nearly cried.  But then I spotted the crossed out word, heart.  Every time I saw him, my heart raced, so maybe heart meant love!  I knew for a fact that boys were quite timid when writing to girls they love, and I concluded that this was the reason he’d replaced heart with hate.  Little did I know how severely wrong I was! 
So I sent him a reply: a long, boring declaration of love, followed by a melted, misshapen cake (I had wanted to bake a new one, but we didn’t have the proper ingredients.)  All I could do was anxiously await a reply.  After what seemed like years, a message finally arrived from Victor.

I loved your caik cake!  Thank you!  Meat Meet me at Lake Valencia tomorrow morning with unuther another cake. 

      

  I had to read this letter ten times over to finally believe it.  Two things shocked me.  The first was that he’d invited me to the lake with him, and second was how horrible his spelling was.  Even an uneducated woman like myself could spell meat correctly!  

Then I got to thinking.  What if the heart-means-love thing was all a big misunderstanding?  I came to the conclusion that he probably did hate me, and the only reason he wanted to meet me was so he could wolf down some more cake! 

That’s when I decided to keep playing the game of deceit.  What could I lose?  The possibility of a repulsive husband?  

Early next morning (which was the 14^th of February,) I hurriedly baked another misshapen cake, but this time it wasn’t an accident.  As I made my way to Lake Valencia’s sandy beach, I thought over my confounding plan. 

The sand was warm beneath my toes as I spread out a soft, welcoming blanket.  I was slicing the cake, when Victor abruptly arrived.  He sat down and, without a single word, served himself a rather large piece of cake.  I hastily grabbed his arm before the cake reached his mouth, “Hi, Victor!”

He gave me a curt nod and ripped his arm away.  I gave up trying to make small talk, “Did you recognize the cake’s shape?”

“Ha!  It’s not any shape.  It’s melted,” Victor guffawed. 

“No, it’s a shape all right!  It’s a heart,” I improvised, hoping he really was as dumb as I thought.

“What?” 

“Yep!  It’s a heart!”

“That’s cool,” Victor spoke with his mouth filled with cake, revealing his frosting-coated teeth.  I nearly puked.

“I have to go!  My mother will be quite worried.” I bolted from the lake as Victor stuffed his face with the remainder of the cake.  When I came to my gate, I rested.  I skipped into the kitchen and burst out laughing.  He’d actually believed that the cake was shaped in a heart!  

Word of hearts spread quickly, and word from the mouth of the revered Victor spread even quicker.  Soon bakers were making heart-shaped cookies and banners were hung around town, dubbing February 14^th, Valentine’s Day, after Lake Valencia.  

Through a series of mistakes, accidents and misunderstandings, the heart became a symbol of love, and a new holiday, Valentine’s Day, was born.

As for Vivian and Victor, any hopes of a spark between them was like starting a fire in the rain, especially when she staunchly refused to bake another misshapen cake!