red is the colour

Yesterday I wore my red dress.

It was my nod to Valentine's Day.

To be honest, I'm not a fan of Valentine's Day. And I know it is probably one of the most overstated comments to be made around this date, up there with any kind of commentary on Schapelle Corby's release from prison, but it is commercialization in all its glory.

I don't mean to sound cynical. It's always nice to give or be given flowers and to be told that you are special to someone. It's just, like all the other naysayers, I do wonder whether it has to be on a particular day and one which has become so attached to the hallmark card and phenomenally priced red rose industry?

And yet, I still wore my red dress. I work in an all girls school. I was playing to the crowd.

When I lived in France...do you like how I managed to crowbar that one in?...there was a festival in Roquemaure, near Avignon, on the weekend closest to the 14th of February. This little village is generally pretty quiet but every year, the streets and town square are filled with visitors who come to have a good time, and ultimately, and rather macabrely, to see the relics of St. Valentine carried out of the church, around the village and back to their place in a shrine to the right of the altar. I think the relics are a toe bone and another small bone. Inspiring.

But if I was Roquemaure, I'd be flaunting my relics too. They were a gift from Rome to the town in 1868 and the goodness of the Saint is said to exude from them and bring a lot of happiness to the town and to those who clap eyes on them, or at least on the receptacle they are in.

Saint Valentine did have a lot of goodness and was executed for this on the 14th of February, 269 AD. His particular form of goodness was in his generosity of spirit to couples and his stand on Christian marriage. 

At the time, marriage had been banned, as the emperor, Claudius, thought that married soldiers did not fight as well as the unmarried men as they were worried about what would happen to their families if they were to die in battle. The priest, Valentine, believed in the sanctity of marriage within the church and so he secretly married couples. His treachery was eventually discovered and he was killed in a very slow and terrible manner.

St. Valentine stood up for what he believed in and acted upon his faith and love. I do think it is fitting that the anniversary of his death is acknowledged. I am just unsure of our approach.